Disclaimer: No I don't own South Park. If I did HumanCentiPad would have never happened.
Damien Thorne was a creature of the night, born in darkness, hidden from the light. The moment the sun went down the world became his playground. He could go where ever he wanted whenever he wanted. Right now he just wanted to find the source of the music that was floating through the air.
This intoxicating melody drew him in, surrounded him, and so he followed it. What did it matter if it was a Wednesday night and he had school tomorrow? He was the fucking Anti-Christ; there was nothing that red-neck high school could teach him.
Damien Thorne had returned to the small town of South Park for his junior year in high school. If he was to take over this world he had to be able to survive in it. Of course surviving in it didn't mean he had to enjoy it. As a child he desired friendship and acceptance from his classmates. He was older now and much wiser. He now knew and accepted the fact that he didn't need anything this plane of existence had to give him.
So what did it matter if the moment he stepped foot in the poor excuse of a high school this town had to offer, a small blonde Brit threw himself at Damien? Damien just quickly shoved the Brit off and moved along. Ignoring the stirring in his stomach, and the phantom touch of the boy's arms around his body. The blonde boy, Pip, was weak. He craved love and kindness, and acceptance. He'd be anyone's best friend. Therefore Damien didn't need him. He didn't need anyone or anything. Life was easier spent alone.
Of course Pip didn't give up after that first meeting. He was a persistent little shit.
At lunch later that day the blonde sat down next to him with nothing more then a curious look. As though he was shocked to see Damien there. How dare that mortal look at him like that, how dare that mortal make him feel….odd. As though it was hard to stop himself from running his fingers through it just to find out if it was as soft as it lo-"No! Don't think like that, because thinking like that only leads to emotions. Any emotion besides, anger and hatred is weak. Weakness is not allowed." The black hair boy repeated to himself as he walked down the dark streets of South Park. "Weakness is not allowed, Weakness is not allowed!" This is why he had set the boy's hat on fire; he couldn't allow such a weakness to grow inside of him. Best to crush it now.
Pip sighed as he walked into the small house he was proud to call his own. He let his eyes wonder down to the charred remains of his signature hat.
"Oh dear! Damien sure did quite a number on you today!"
And even though his beloved hat was now well past the point of repair he kept smiling, what good did it do him to get upset? Much better to smile and act like he didn't mind. Or at least that's what he told himself, but truth be told he did mind, yes he was a very forgiving person and therefore he couldn't be mad at the noirette. He was just merely confused. Pip had being sitting at that table in the corner of the lunch room all year. So when he saw the brooding red eyed boy he thought that Damien wanted to sit with him.
After all they had been friends in third grade. It was a nasty shock when he noticed his precious hat had been set aflame.
He just couldn't get Damien's smirk, as he ran out of the lunchroom charred hat in his hands, out of his head. That smirk which had haunted his dreams for so many years, it just didn't seem right, there was something off.
Could it have been that for a second Pip had seen remorse in those ruby red eyes? "No" started that little voice in his head, a distorted version of his own bright and cheerful one.
"Remorse would mean that he cared, and no one would ever care about you."
"N-no that's not quite right, I'm sure people care about me! Why me and Butters get along swimmingly."
"But he left you didn't he? He left you for Kenny, the same way Tweek left you for Craig. As soon as something better came along your friendship was forgotten. Face it, Frog, no one likes you."
Pip sank down into the nearest chair, not even in his own mind could he escape cruel words. And damn it, he was not French!
"Call me a bloody frog will you," he muttered under his breath
"Face it Pip, there is no escape, your worthless always have been and always will be." That treacherous voice inside him continued.
"Oh no, I don't quite agree, if you keep your mind open there's always an escape. You just have to be creative." And with that the small blonde Brit picked himself up and walked into the other room, thinking to himself "Just have to be creative."
Damien continued walking the dark streets of South Park, still searching for the source of the music. Each movement of his foot bringing him closer to his goal. Where or exactly what the goal was he didn't know. What he did know was that he wasn't a very patient man, and he was growing tired of following these floating sounds without getting any results. With his inhuman hearing it could be another mile down the road for all he knew. But Damien Thorne was also a highly determined man.
Once he set his eyes on something he wasn't one to give up without a fight. If anything ever came down to a fight he made damn sure he won. He was Damien Lucifer Thorne, son of The Prince of Darkness and no mere mortal or lowly demon would ever best him. So why was he following after the sounds a "mere mortal" was making? The sounds being made, and the skill required to make them would impress even Beethoven. Having met the man one or twice in Hell he was sure of this. Damien knew all about temptation and lust, lust being his favorite sin. Right now he lusted after this unknown mortal, the hands that could pull such sounds from a simple instrument. He wanted to put those hands to good use, to see what else they'd be skilled at.
Pip slowly walked up the stairs of his house, eagerly awaiting the escape the door at the end of the hall offered. He approached the dark mahogany door.
He tentatively pushed open the door taking in the pure beauty of the instrument in front of him. No matter how many times he had played that piano in the past 11 years its magnificence always overtook him. He was five when he had his first piano lesson, his sister beating it into him that to be respected he had to play an instrument. And despite a rough start he quickly grew to love it. While another child would have complained at being forced to spend time inside he loved it.
The piano never told him he was worthless. The piano never refused to work for or with him. And the moment he began to press those stark white keys all of his troubles would float away. He would completely lose himself in the melodies. He had managed to get through all the struggles in his life through music.
Coming to this country only to be mocked, losing Damien as a friend so shortly after meeting him, his sister's and Joe's divorce. And the most recent one telling his sister he'd much rather be with a lad then any girl.
"What? How dare you be gay! What about me? Did you think about all the trouble and disgrace it would cause me? The woman you brought you up by hand? How am I to go to church and tell them that my little brother, who I raised, is a no good fag!"
The sensation of her hand slamming into his face bringing tears to his eyes when he refused to let her words to do so.
"No fag will live in a house of mine, out! Now!" It was this one statement that jerked a reaction out of the boy. This house was his. This parent's had left it to him, not her. His and he wasn't going to let her take it away from him. Not like this.
"No." She looked at him as though she couldn't believe the words coming from the normally silent boy. "It's mine, the house. Mum and Dad left it to me in their will, your only here until I'm an adult."
And then she was gone, packed her bags and left, where he had no clue. He was alone, and he didn't mind one bit. Sure he had to get a job to pay for things like food and water but he was free do to as he wished. No one to boss him around or hurt him. He was free at home, and that was worth any amount of time spent at some ran down store working for minimum wage.
Even if it meant he didn't get home until late at night, like tonight. It was during one of these late nights that he first heard that little voice inside his head taunting him. Telling him he was worthless, the only thing Pip could do to get that horrid voice to stop was to replace it with music. To drown it out until he couldn't hear his own thoughts. Oddly enough it was always the same kind of song too, always a sad and mournful tune. This night he knew would be no different.
Finally Damien approached the house from which the music was coming from; it was a tiny two story house that was an oddly familiar shade of brown. Inside the building he could sense but one soul, on the second floor. The emotions of the soul were….perplexing to say the least. Damien could sense turmoil that was carefully hidden by thick layers upon layers of denial. Also a great sense of forgiveness as though it held nothing against those who had done it-no wait, it was a male. He held nothing against them; their actions still affected him, no matter how hard he tried to deny it to himself and the world. But there was no hatred or anger towards the perpetrator.
Then to top it all off there was a strong sense of peace, although it seemed flimsy. As if with one small change it would drift away without a second's notice. Just who was this mysterious mortal? Damien's gaze over to the front door of the house. That's where he saw it, realizing with a dark chuckle he was looking the final clue to figuring who it was. There billowing in the wind was the British flag.
Still chuckling to himself as he looked for the fastest and easiest way to climb up to the open window on the second floor. The drainage pipe was close to the window, although it didn't look like it could support his weight. But he could change that easily enough.
One word in Latin "Fortere" later Damien was quickly climbing up the pipe, ignoring the slight after burn caused by using his powers. Quickly blending in and becoming one with the night that surrounded him. Soon becoming no more then a mere shadow.
The window was about two feet to his right when he stopped his climb. Trying to find the slight protrusion of the bricks he had spotted earlier. Without hesitation he took one step off to the side, insuring his foot was stable he added the second and released the pipe. Gripped the open window tightly he positioned himself so that he could peak over the ledge.
At last Damien could see the source of the music that he had been following. They took the form of a small blonde Brit. His golden hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, with several strands framing his face. His pale grey faces focused intensely on the keys under his long fingers. Slowly one mournful tune drifted into another. This one speaking of things lost and never had.
And just as his full attention was in the melody the blonde parted his lips and began to sing.
I feel numb
My every nerve has lost its feeling
No air left in my lungs
A gasp of breath is all I'm craving
It's the opposite of love
All things decayed and rust
It's the ugly side of us
Oh, mother hold me
N.U.M.B
I feel empty, of feeling, of feeling
Even God is grieving
N.U.M.B
Elevate me, I'm drowning, I'm drowning
Please God, I'm numb to life
I feel numb
All my dreams have lost their meaning
Total eclipse of the sun
The guilty part is yours for keeping
It's the opposite of light
I'm the owl of the night
Set me free so I can fly
Let me go don't hold me
N.U.M.B
I feel empty, of feeling, of feeling
Even God is grieving
N.U.M.B
Elevate me, I'm drowning, I'm drowning
Please God, I'm numb to life
N.U.M.B
I feel empty, of feeling, of feeling
Even God is grieving
N.U.M.B
Elevate me, I'm drowning, I'm drowning
Please God, I'm numb to life
Please God, I'm numb to life
P-Please God, I'm drowning
Please G-god, I'm numb to life
Damien sat listening to each and every word coming from the Brit's mouth, and as his voice broke at the last few lines something inside of Damien broke too. His heart, he wasn't aware he even had one.
Author's Note:
So I've had this written in a notebook since January but never got around to typing it until now.
I am more then willing to make this a chaptered story if there is enough interest in it.
If it does become a chaptered story each chapter would feature a different song. This chapter was N.U.M.B by Diana Vickers you should go listen to it if you haven't already. So if you know of any songs that might fit this story I'm be more then willing to listen to them, and of course would give you cedit for the suggestion.