So, this is going to be more, of a kind of, serious story, unlike my other ones, who are just funny for laughs. If you like that sort of thing, I have some comedy story. But since I'm naturally a funny, silly person, there's going to be some humor here too, it's just not centered on it. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter one: 'My name's Lovino. But I'm not lovable.'
My name is Lovino Vargas. Do not mix up my name with my personality. That is not me. I'm the last person you would want to meet. Let alone love.
I opened my old, beaten down fridge. Damn, I really need a new one. I thought, but there was no way in hell I was going to buy one. First off, those things are freakin' expensive. I'm not wasting my money. And I was going to have to deal with that lady. The happy one. The one with two beautiful children, demon brats, and an amazing husband, I'm 99% sure he's cheating on that bitch.
I grabbed a bottle of liquor and poured a little into a cup.
"Another day in this hell." I said aloud, drinking to myself. I sat down on an old, creaky chair, leaning back a little. I heard a knock at the door.
"Go. Away." I yelled, drinking more. But I heard the door knob shifting about, and then the door opened.
Feliks.
"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?" I asked, drinking the rest of the liquor in my cup.
"Bust doing what? Drinking to fill up the depressed void you have from living in a shitty home, alone, with no one but a fallen angel to talk to?" Feliks asked, moving his shoulder length blonde hair to the side, and sitting across from me at the table.
"Who asked for your opinion?" I asked, getting up and putting my glass in the sink.
"I did. Now go and put some clothes on. We've got exorcisms to perform!" Feliks said, in a peppy voice.
"Those words, and a happy tone, should never be spoken." Lovino began "And, I know. I'll get ready in a second. Damn it, calm down."
"Cursing is unholy!" Feliks yelled to him, as he walked away, and into his room.
"Guess who doesn't give a fuck?"
I walked into my room, to get changed. Fuck. Why do people have to get changed, anyway? If you ask me, clothes are over-rated. People should walk around in their PJ's. Much comfier. Ugh, whatever. I'll just put on an old grey T-shirt. Probably stained somewhere. Jeans, and brown leather jacket, and Loafers. The only reason I own those, so called, nice, shoes, is because Feliks gave them to me. And he makes me wear them. According to him, people won't hire me unless I look, presentable.
I walked out of my room, into the kitchen, and grabbed my keys. "Let's go."
"Man, you're such a downer. You should be happier." Feliks said, grabbing his jacket.
"Easy for you to say, your name and what you are, both mean happy. Mr. Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows." I said, walking out of my apartment.
I walked down the stairs, and over to my Honda, got in the car and drove away, with Feliks.
"Where to?" I asked, turning the corner.
"Uh, West avenue. A little boy, nothing major, just a rank 1."
"Name and age." I demanded, turning left.
"James Elmor. Around thirteen. Cute little boy, does community service on the weekends." Feliks said, pointing which way I should go.
"It's always the good ones." I said.
"Yeah, his moms a priest, as you would think were the first resort she came to." Feliks said, as the car stopped in front of a house.
"Let's make this quick, and let's get it over with." I said, walking up to the house.
Feliks knocked on the door, and a tall, skinny woman with blonde hair, and ocean blue eyes came to the door quickly. "Hello, my name is Feliks. I work with Mr. Vargas, in the work of exorcisms; we're here because we heard about your son. Now, I'm going to ask you few…" Feliks said, but I began to tone him out, as I pushed him aside and walked up to the small, black haired boy that was tied to the couch, and thrashing his arms and legs.
I walked up to him, and sat my bag down beside me. His face was more triangle shaped, because of the possession. And his eyes were black. Pitch black. Completely.
I pulled out a cross from my backpack, and held it over him. "Are you ready, brat?" I asked, as his mouth opened two times the size normally possible.
I clutched the cross tightly in my hand, and I heard Feliks and the tall lady stop talking to focus on what I was doing. The lady, I believe to be the boys mom, grabbed Feliks a buried her face in her shirt.
Smart. I thought. You won't want to see this.
I hovered the cross over him for a few more seconds, and then I slammed it down onto his chest. I could see the smoke rising from around it, and the boy letting out a bloody murder shriek, one that just wasn't human. The shrieks continued, as his whole body began to shake, as I held the cross to his chest, I grabbed holy water, and threw it at his eyes. He was blinded. And burning. Temporarily. I grabbed a small ball from my bag, it looked almost like a pearl, but it was too clear. I held it up to his large, black void of a mouth, he hissed at me. No, more like he was talking to me, but it was a cracked, hissing voice. It began to taunt me in its native language, cursing me. I began to recite Latin, bible chants, and it's talking began to turn into shrieks of pain as I got deeper into the prayer. I black, moist, gooey liquid crawled out of the small boy's mouth, as the small, pearl shaped ball sucked it inside of it. The black in the boys eyes faded.
"Mom?" The boys asked, shaking.
"My baby!" She screamed, running to him, grabbing and holding him close.
Feliks walked up to me and patted me on the back.
"Don't touch me." I said, grabbing my back.
"You're so negative. Was he a hard one?" Feliks asked, grabbing the envelope the woman had left us as payment, and walking out the door next to me.
"You kidding? That was a weak Rank 1. He fell fast." I said, unlocking the car.
"Hm, that's good, right?" Feliks asked.
"Well, if you're like me, and you hate your job, then yes." I said, opening the car door, and sitting down.
"Why aren't you happier, like your brother? You know Feli." Feliks said, sitting next to me.
"My brothers gay."
"He is not, but if he were, there's nothing wrong with that." Feliks said.
"Of course you would say that." I said, starting up that car.
"Why are you so down? So hard on yourself?" Feliks asked.
"Why? You want to know why I'm so hard on myself. How about I'm deemed to hell. How about I fail to complete a simple task, well, have not one acquaintance, let alone friend, besides some fallen angel, who's bound to get tired of me and leave, I smoke around three packs a day, trying to get life over with. Does that answer your question?" I asked, lighting a cigarette, and beginning to drive.
Was it, too, depressing? I know it has more of a serious feel to it, but I was kind of trying to go for that. Did you like it? Should I continue it?
PANDAS!
Every kind of, Cookie.