Bad Romance

by Obsidian and Alabaster

I'll be at his side for eternity. Dip; one-shot.

Collaborative again, written for the horror prompt, "bad romance". Constructive critiques are always welcomed.

Bad Romance

My Friday started out rather typical. I woke up in my cheap apartment alone, had my usual breakfast of crumpets with jam and a cup of tea alone, and walked to school... alone. My typical day continued at school with the other students either completely ignoring me, or going out of their way to make things difficult for me. It wasn't unusual for me be picking my lunch up off the filthy cafeteria floor come lunchtime.

No matter how hard I tried, after living in South Park for nearly seven years now, I still hadn't made one friend. I try my hardest to be warm and friendly, and I think I'm, well, quite charming. Even the other "melvins" - as the other boys called them - rarely spoke to me. I began to accept that as long as I stuck out as being British, I would unfortunately be an outcast. That is, until a rather interesting boy transferred to South Park high school.

He was pale and dark, and despite being a new student, I noticed he got almost no attention from anyone. Positive or negative. But like a true British gentleman, I had introduced myself, and we began what I considered a friendship. Damien was my first and only friend in Colorado.

I couldn't deny that Damien was handsome and I had become quite attracted to him, but there was something that was... off. I had begun to notice it almost as soon as I introduced myself to him. The dark-haired boy often spoke in what I passed off as silly riddles, speaking of damnation and hellfire and such, and the way he stared at me was like a predator eying a piece of meat. It was discomforting, to say the least. Damien often insisted on walking me home as well, though it didn't appear to me that he terribly enjoyed the company. So on my typical day after a typical walk home from school with my not-so-typical friend, I couldn't hide the surprise on his face when Damien asked if he could come in for a while.

I managed to stutter out a polite "of course" before taking my friend up to my shabby little apartment and letting him in, slipping the flats off my feet and hurrying to pick up a few things from the table.

"I hadn't expected company, so I'm terribly sorry for the mess! Please make yourself at home, though it's not much," I said with a cheerful smile. It was a bit depressing coming home to an empty apartment every day, so I was quite delighted to have someone to speak with for a change.

Damien quietly entered the apartment behind me and glanced around the room, scanning it briefly with his deep red eyes that I noticed seem to be constantly glowing, as if they burned with an inner fire. He was tall, standing nearly a head over me, and he was dark. Hair as black as midnight framed his pale, handsome face while his body was covered in clothes that were nearly as dark as his hair. Around his neck hung a heavy silver pendant: an inverted cross.

"It's fine, Pip," he said with a wave of his hand. He walked over to the couch, not bothering to take his boots off before he sat down and put his arms over the back of it, getting comfortable. "Come sit next to me, I want to have a talk."

I turned to look at Damien as I placed some books from the table onto a shelf, slightly curious. Whenever someone says they'd like to have a talk, it's almost always serious, isn't it? However, I just smiled and complied with the other boy's request, taking a seat next to him on my small couch.

"Are you quite sure I can't get you anything? A cup of tea perhaps?" I asked, subconsciously leaning closer to Damien. It was the first time I had a friend in my home, or what I called home. I wanted to be a good host.

The hellish boy smirked, his expression looking almost unnatural to me, as if there were too many teeth in his mouth. "No, just sit and listen." He slid one long, lithe arm over my slender shoulders, essentially trapping me at his side if he so desired. It felt like a romantic gesture, and I couldn't help smiling to myself. Looking at me as he started to play with the ends of my silky blond hair, he spoke again.

"You're a very interesting boy, Pip. Do you know why that is?" He didn't give pause for me to answer and continued before I could hardly open my mouth. "Its because every single day, all those boys at school torture you: they beat you and make fun of you relentlessly, and for no good reason. Yet despite that, you remain the kindest boy in the town. Any other person who was forced to put up with as much you do would surely have turned sour by now." Another smile graced his lips. "But you're innocent, and that's what has me attracted to you; there is no sense in defiling someone who is already a sinner. So, I'm going to make you mine."

Though I tried not to show it on the outside (I wouldn't want to make my guest feel uncomfortable, of course), I couldn't help the nervous chill that shot up my spine from his words, the way he spoke. I was unable to look away from the boy's unnatural crimson eyes as he spoke, almost mesmerized and a bit frightened at once.

"I-... I don't quite know what you mean, Love," I smiled as I placed my hands gently on Damien's chest, a timid gesture, I admit, but I wanted to keep space between us. I felt a bit guilty; Damien was supposed to be my friend, but at this moment I felt nervous around him. Like something wasn't right with him. "Aren't I already yours? I mean, I don't have any other mates at school," I added with a slightly feminine chuckle. One of the many things the boys at school had a go at me for.

Damien laughed softly in response to this, though there wasn't really any humor in it, and rather something I would describe as mocking and sinister. "Oh Pip, you're so naive. You're really quite the treat! A rarity in this world." He let his arm slide down from where it was loosely perched on my shoulders and wrapped it around my slim waist, tightening his hold and pulling me close to his body, his clothed skin radiating a bizarre, inhuman heat. "I mean to take you, in both body and soul. And I'm afraid to say, it won't be pleasant."

At that moment, all the lights in the small apartment had suddenly burst, spraying glass over the floor and shrouding the room in the late-afternoon gloom of that cloudy winter day. Damien then gripped me by the wrists and shoved me down onto my back on the couch, leaning over me and pinning me there with his heavier, hot body while he peered into my eyes with his hellish red ones. "Don't you know what I am, Pip? Surely you have a clue."

It was safe to say I was completely startled by the sudden change in my friend. I suddenly felt very helpless, like no matter what I did at this point there would be no getting away from this boy.

I looked up at Damien with my wide, frightened blue eyes. The sudden movement of being pushed back had caused my Gatsby style hat to fall to the floor, leaving my blond hair free to splay out around my head.

"Damien, I-I-... I-I'm terribly sorry if I offended you somehow, Love," I managed to stutter out, becoming flustered as I could feel heart my racing faster. I couldn't look away from those beautiful fiery eyes above me, feeling the heat coming from the devilish boy's body. "Wh-what exactly are you trying to say?"

Damien only laughed again, amused. "'Love'? Is that what you think this is? What you think of me? That's priceless!" His grip on my wrists tightened, squeezing them hard enough to surely leave bruises there later. Leaning down so close that out noses were nearly touching, he whispered in a deep, sultry voice, his steamy breath tickling my face. "I'm a devil, Pip. The son of Satan. And I'm going to bring you back to Hell with me so that I can keep you forever."

He released my wrists from his grasp, but remained on top of me as he held out his hand, a twisted, silver dagger with a hold as black as ebony materializing there in a wisp of smoke. He gazed at the weapon, examining it before glancing down at me again. "Do you see this? I'm going to use it to kill you."

My eyes widened when I heard those words come from the boy's mouth, not quite sure I actually heard right. Kill? Damien couldn't really want to kill me, could he? My face paled upon seeing the ghastly looking dagger, realizing that if Damien wasn't serious, I was about to get hurt either way. And just where did that thing come from? Did I really just see it come out of nowhere?

"O-oh dear. Damien, surely you can't mean something like that!" I made a rather timid attempt to get up as I placed my hands on my captor's chest. I knew I had to distance myself at least a little bit, but my polite upbringing prevented me from being forceful. "After all, wh-why would a devil be here in South Park?" I asked with a nervous chuckle. Though the predatory eyes that were currently locked on me made me consider that perhaps Damien wasn't lying.

The demonic teen looked down at me and smiled again at the question. "For you, of course. You're perfect; God would be sending you to heaven when you die, so I'm here to stop that. The more people in Hell, the better it is for me and my father." I watched as he pulled the scarf from around my neck, exposing my flesh, then he placed one sharp edge of the dagger there and pressed down with enough force to split the skin and cause crimson blood to begin flowing. He then dragged it down the center of my chest with a slow precision, as if he had done this sort of thing before. "You're going to be my favorite toy."

The movement of the knife caused my nice, crisp white shirt to fall open as the fabric was sliced, bearing my pale chest to the dark boy. The blade moved down from my collarbone to the spot just below my ribs, where Damien stopped, to my relief. But then he dragged it horizontally against my torso, carving into me what I realized was the sign of the anti-Christ: an inverted cross, just like the pendant around his neck. "I want to hear you scream."

Out of all the mocking and ridicule I had received in my short life, I never thought someone would go so far as to want to kill me. Now I was sure Damien would follow through.

The pain I felt from the dagger digging into my flesh was worse than anything I had experienced before. My body reflexively tensed and I didn't try to hold back the cry of pain that escaped my lips, my hands instinctively grabbing for my assailant's wrist as I felt warm blood trickle from the wounds.

"Don't do this!" I cried. A sickening feeling in my stomach told me that pleading would do me no good, but I had to try. If there was any shred of good nature in Damien, I was sure I could appeal to it somehow.

Damien looked pleased to hear my almost-begging, as if he derived a perverse pleasure from the sound. I watched with slight horror as he lifted the dagger to his lips and ran his tongue over the edge to taste the blood there, taking a brief moment to enjoy the salty flavor. He then tucked the knife into the belt of his tight, black pants and shifted his body, moving down so that he could lower his head down to my stomach. He trailed his tongue over my soft skin; his saliva mixing with the blood and causing the fresh cuts to sting more than they already had. I arched slightly and hissed from the pain. At the same time, Damien's hands went to my hips, caressing them with an odd gentleness before he began to unbuckle my pants. "Do you still love me, Pip?"

I was relieved when I saw the dagger tucked safely away, but it was short lived. I reached back to put my arms over the arm of the couch to grip the fabric. "I-... I don't understand what you want from me," I hesitantly answered.

I truly didn't hate my friend for what he'd done - what he was doing - but I knew that was a twisted way to be thinking in such a situation. I looked down at Damien with fear now obvious in my azure blue eyes.

"I don't hate you, Damien... Why are you doing this?" I could hear my voice waver as I spoke, struggling to keep my composure.

"Would it make a difference if I told you? Whose to say you could understand, anyway?" He licked his lips of the blood staining them - my blood - and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my pants. He dragged them down, his sharp, black nails scratching my skin in the process. Without a struggling victim, it was easy for

Damien to slide my pants off, bringing my underwear with them, and before I built up the courage to stop him I was naked. The demon's fiery eyes scanned over me, taking in my every curve and imperfection. I felt exposed and embarrassed. He smiled and leaned down over me again, pressing his hips almost painfully against mine as he breathed heavily against my ear. "I've never taken someone as innocent as you."

Moving with a natural grace, which I had always admired about him, he trailed one hand down over my bare abdomen again, coating his fingers in the blood there before wrapping his limber fingers around my cock. He squeezed it painfully and smeared it with my own blood, successfully eliciting a cry from me. "Does it feel good?"

I let out a pained squeak, my hands moving to Damien's shoulders. I wriggled in the other boy's grasp and pushed at him to try to get space between us, though I knew the demon wouldn't relent.

"No!" I said, fighting back the tears that threatened to well up in my eyes. I was humiliated, and I didn't understand what I'd done wrong. Did God send the Devil to punish me? I tried to be a good person, I really did.

I felt like he was going to be sick. I hated myself for the way my body was reacting to the other boy's touch, and the way I submitted so easily. It was pathetic. I pushed more firmly on Damien's shoulders in hopes I could slip out from under him if I got enough slack. "Please, please, please, y-you don't have to do this."

Damien simply chuckled, the sound of it disturbing and hollow. "It doesn't matter. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time, and I'm taking you before anyone else can taint your innocence."

He squeezed my now hardening cock again, running a bloodied thumb along the side while he ground his own beginning erection down against his thigh. His hot mouth went to my neck as he stroked, inhaling my scent before he almost casually bit down on my tender flesh with his inhumanly sharp teeth, instantly drawing out more blood. Biting and kissing at my neck, his breathing deep and hot against my skin, he began to pump my growing erection with his hand.

Trapped under Damien, I couldn't do much more than writhe under his weight. The teeth against my throat reminded me of just how helpless I was right now, but the pleasure coming from my nether regions quickly distracted me from that thought. "Suh-... stop..." I gasped out.

Despite my protests, I rolled my hips up, my mind resisting but my body begging for more contact. I pressed my hands more firmly against the dark haired boy's chest, pushing him with trembling arms. I couldn't think straight anymore. Maybe I should just accept what was inevitable.

However, Damien was like a rock, unmoving from his position on top of me, his firm chest pressing back against my hands. He seemed to find even more enjoyment in my feeble protests, which have almost no effect on him, and once I was hard he released his hand and sat up on his knees. I watched with worry as he began to unbuckle his own pants.

"Don't be afraid, Pip. I promise it won't hurt for long," he told me, though I felt no reassurance. He pushed down his pants just enough to pull his erect cock from its confines while his eyes traveled over my bare body one more time. Slender hands then went back to my hips and slowly slid down my thighs, once again leaving thin scratch marks there. They went to my knees, spreading them open and causing my face to flush with embarrassment. I had never been so exposed before. He purred in the back of his throat, anticipating his next movement, and he put his hand to his own cock. I watched as he rubbed it slowly, smearing it with the leftover blood on his fingers.

"Close your eyes and relax."

I kept my hands pressed against Damien's chest, though my trembling arms had no strength left in them. I closed my eyes tight in an attempt to hold back my tears and rolled my head to the side, not wanting to watch what was about to happen.

I opened my mouth to protest, though I knew it was useless at this point, but only let out a choked sob. I was ashamed. If I hadn't been so blindly devoted to my friend I never would have been put in such a position. How could I not notice the devil's son was beside me all along?

I watched Damien again as he rubbed himself until he was hard and slicked with my blood, then leaned back over my trembling body, settling himself between my slender legs. There was no sympathy in his face, and there was no love in his actions. I'm nothing more than a body for him to claim, and I was his now.

He braced himself on one arm as he hovered over me. He put the other on one of my legs and lifted it up onto his hip. It's then that he made his move, easily finding my entrance and abruptly forcing himself in.

My eyes shot open and I arched my back off the couch, though it was terribly painful on my open wounds. My nails dug into Damien's shoulders, and I could feel my insides tear as he forced his way into me. It hurt, and I couldn't find my voice, only gasping for breath that the burning pain took. My eyes shut tight again. I didn't want to look at Damien. I didn't want to see the boy I had fallen for doing such a dreadful thing. I didn't want to hate him.

The devil on top of me only purred deeply as he penetrated me, closing his eyes for only a moment and seeming to savor it. He opened them again, looking down at me with a wicked smile before he leaned in and pressed his pale lips to mine, giving me a forceful, painful kiss. I could feel those sharp teeth splitting my skin in the process. His body pushed against mine, his cock pushing in deeper. As he gripped my thigh tighter, he pulled out only to harshly thrust back in. If I got out of this, I was sure my body would be horribly bruised.

I cried out into his mouth from the rough thrusts, my body tense and constricting around Damien's cock. I felt choked, his tongue pushing against mine as he took my mouth completely. I could feel each time my insides tore from the intrusion, the resulting blood only making the devil's movements slicker. I began to feel light-headed, and my strength to fight was completely gone. Tears escaped from the corner of my closed eyes as hard as I fought them back as they rolled down my cheeks. The pain of being ripped open was almost as bad as the cuts I had received before.

Damien moved into me with strong, quick thrusts, fully taking pleasure in the way I gasped and tensed, digging my nails against his shoulder blades. He let go of my mouth with his and slowed his pace somewhat, raising himself up a little and looking down at me. I opened my eyes hesitantly, as if I expected pain to come of it, returning the gaze. His lips stretched into a wicked smile and he put his free hand to my cheek, gently caressing it in what I wanted to be a loving gesture. "I think it's time, Pip. Are you ready to see what Hell is like?"

The dark boy removed his hand from my face and reached behind him to once again pull out the dagger that he used before to leave his mark in my flesh. He puts it to my chest, causing me to inhale as he leisurely trailed it over my skin, the pressure just barely enough to cut me again. He was taking his time. Why was he taking his time? Did he not want me dead? "How would you like to die?"

I reluctantly looked into his eyes, my own pained and a bit frightened as I silently pleaded for some kind of mercy. I knew there was no stopping him now, and I honestly wasn't sure I wanted to try.

I grimaced as the other boy continued to push against my raw insides, shifting beneath him for some kind of relief from the discomfort. "I want to die as yours." And I meant it. Damien was the only companion I ever had, as pathetic as it was, and I felt I owed him an incredible debt for it.

"Then it's your time now. But don't be upset, no one will miss you." And I knew he was right. His eyes followed the slow path of the dagger across my chest, a brief look of thought on his face. "How should I do this?" he asked himself as he dragged the edge of the blade across my neck, opening up a thin line of blood and thrusting into me again as he did. I let out a short cry. "Like this?" The dagger moved downward towards my bloody, pale stomach, making another fresh incision there. "Or maybe like this?" He pressed more harshly there, and I could feel the dagger sinking deeper into my flesh. "It must be excruciating," he nearly chuckled.

I cried out again as the dark haired boy drove his blade deeper, clenching my eyes shut to endure the newly awakened pain. Fresh blood oozed from the wound, and I felt the thick streams of it rolling off my stomach and onto the couch.

I slowly reached up to wrap my trembling arms around Damien's strong shoulders, whimpering as I sat forward just slightly. The wounds were still terribly sore. "Will I see you in Hell, Love?" I almost whispered. My voice was shaking, but I wasn't afraid to die anymore.

"Yes, you'll be at my side for eternity."

He angled the dagger so the tip was pointed at my tender stomach, and then abruptly forced it down, imbedding the weapon to the hilt into my flesh and innards. I choked out a gasp and my eyes went wide, nails digging into Damien's shoulder blades as the pain hit me unbelievably hard. I could feel the blood come up my throat, thick and suffocating. It oozed from the knife stuck in my stomach and covered my pale flesh in crimson. Damien watched. Watched as the thick, red liquid flowed out from around the blade and spilled down over my sides and he smiled, then moved once again to press his face against my neck. His hips begin to move again, pushing in and back out of my body, but this time it was gentle and slow and tender. He whispered softly in my ear as he held me, "I want to come as your life drains."

So this is what it's like to die. My shaking arms slowly moved up the devil's back, and I slid my slender fingers into the boy's dark hair. I couldn't help but feel comforted by Damien's sinister words. I hoped he would adore me even in death. "I'm yours, Love," I managed to whisper, the blood in my throat beginning to pool in my mouth. It tasted salty, or like copper, and it leaked out my mouth when I spoke to trickle down my chin. "As long as you want me."

Damien smiled slightly at me, at my submission, and he captured my mouth with his in one more slow, harsh kiss, not minding the blood that spilled from my lips. He bucked his hips again, continuing to move against my weakening body and making me groan. As I could feel my life drain, Damien's pace quickened, and all I could do was hold him. With a final thrust, he released his hot seed inside, moaning in satisfaction. I only whimpered quietly as I was filled, arching slightly though the movement was painful on my wounds. My fingers weakly gripped Damien's ebony hair as my eyes slowly blinked. I could feel my heart beats coming slower now. He nuzzled my neck, pressing into the arteries there so he could feel my pulse against his face. "Yes... That's it."

Somehow, I was no longer afraid. I didn't fear my death; I was assured my friend - my lover - would be by my side in Hell. I wouldn't be so terribly alone like I was in life. Perhaps Hell would be an improvement for my sorry existence. My head rolled to the side, bloodied lips brushing the rim of Damien's ear as I whispered incoherent affections through the blood that filled my mouth. I couldn't think anymore. It was too much.

Damien stayed on top of me, holding me and waiting patiently for my life to finally slip away. He stroked my blond hair, and I knew he enjoyed the feeling of the warm blood smearing between our bodies.

"Don't try to resist it, Pip. Just let go, it's almost over."

I didn't fight it any longer. The sooner I let go, the sooner I would be with him. With Damien, the son of Satan. I didn't even notice when I quietly fell into unconsciousness.