Damien wandered down a snowy street. He wasn't actually sure where he was going and frankly, he didn't care.
He was on a street just outside his school, which had just finished for the day.

Damien, on the whole, was used to walking home alone… if you could even call it 'walking home'. He basically waited until all his classmates had disappeared and clicked his fingers.
Ah, Teleportation…
Being the son of Satan had it's advantages now and again..

Now, he walked slowly on the sidewalk, being careful not to skid on the spots of ice dotted under his feet. It was snowing, yet Damien didn't wear a jacket. Ever.
In his opinion, it wouldn't matter if he suffered from frost bite, as the fact was - if he died, what difference would it make?
No-one would miss him - and he already lived where he was bound to go, anyway.
Damien's cheeks were stinging now with numb cold. He rose an equally freezing hand to his cheek and rubbed it slightly - achieving nothing but a tingling sensation in his fingers.

He only now, thought to look up and take in his surroundings. He saw a blur of red?… Damien shook his head and blinked a few times before looking back up and catching a glimpse of a familiar looking Tweaks Coffee Shop in the distance..
'That's an idea..' Damien thought to himself. 'I could always go in there for a coffee… no-one would bother me…'

He settled his choice within a split second. Another of Damien's talents, or habits more-like, was that he could make up his mind very quickly. If there was a choice - he would pick the most useful or most logic choice, and he would pick fast.
So he trudged along the deserted street, quickening his pace now that he had a secure destination.

Damien kept his hands in his pockets as he sped past each row of houses and each alley-way..
Then, as he passed an alley about two blocks away from the coffee shop, he heard a small, weak scream and a klunk. Then, he heard voices..

"Look at the poor little croissant - trying to fight back.."
"Aww, you want your hat back?"

The jeers continued for a while until there was a gasp of air, and coughing.
Damien furrowed his brow and stepped back slightly, to peer into the alley.
It wasn't dark yet, so he could still see into the shadows.
He saw a large red haired male, a thinner brunette and two mucky blondes looming over a slender boy who was now crouched on hands and knees, spluttering.
Although Damien couldn't see the face of the victim; he knew instantly who it was. The cut-short golden hair and red blazer made it all too obvious..
It was Pip. Damien was confused on account of two reasons. One - why was Pip down here in the first place, and two - why were these guys beating him up?
At that moment, the shortest blonde haired boy placed a foot on the Pip back, lightly.
"Alright, Pippy. Beg for your hat, and I won't crush you to a pulp." he said to tremendous laughter from the other three boys. Pip raised his head from the floor just enough to get his words out.
"I.. won't beg." he wheezed. Blood was pouring from his nose. Obviously, the 'klunk' must have been someone punching him in the face. Pip's bully looked taken aback for a moment, but then re-gained his composure.
"You won't beg? And why won't you beg, Pippy?" he asked, pressing the ball of his foot down into the soft flesh of Pip's back.
"Because.." Pip gasped. "If I beg.. You still won't give it me back.."
The boys broke out into fits of laughter at this.
"You're pretty smart." the brunette cackled while throwing Pip's hat into the mud just in front of Pip.
Pip stretched out a hand, but before he could grab the rim of his hat, the brunette slammed his foot down on Pip's hand.
Pip felt his knuckles rattle beneath the weight of the boys foot. He yelled out in pain and tried to get the boys foot off with his other hand, scratching at the toe of the boy's trainer, but resulting in nothing except more laughter from the gang.

Anger swelled in Damien's stomach. He couldn't stand to see Pip in distress - especially when he had obviously done nothing wrong.
Damien decided to take a running jump. He rounded the corner and cleared his throat, menacingly.
"Excuse me, but do you guys have a problem?" he growled.
The boys whipped round to stare at him. The brunette and the two blondes made questioning faces. They were in the same year as Damien, but still they didn't know about him.
The red haired boy, however, backed away from Damien. The other three boys looked around at him.
"Michael, what's your deal?" The taller blonde asked, looking indignantly from Damien to Michael and back again. The red-head, obviously named Michael, glanced to the blonde and muttered to him in a voice so close to a whisper.
"Elliot.. Do you know who he is?!"
Elliot, the brunette boy and the other blonde looked back at Damien who was now leant against the wall, looking bored with the proceedings.
"No. Who is he?" Elliot asked. Michael gulped and took a steadying breath.
"He's the devil kid. You know, the son of Satan.." Michael muttered, staring at Damien with terrified eyes.
Damien raised an eyebrow as Elliot let out a noise of mock-terror.
"Like hell he is." Elliot said, walking over to stand in front of Damien. Damien was exactly the same size as Elliot, which brought shock to everyone except Damien.

Elliot laughed in Damien's face and before Damien could retort - Elliot had lifted him bodily from the floor by the collar. Damien's face stayed straight during this whole ordeal, even when he was slammed against the wall, his feet dangling about two inches from the floor. Pip squeaked in terror for Damien and managed to get out a quick "No! Damien!" before the shortest blonde slammed his foot down harder onto Pip's back. Damien merely laughed right back in Elliot's face.
"You don't believe it, then?" he asked, an evil smile forming on his enigmatic face.
"No. But I believe your going to get crushed." Elliot sneered. Damien laughed, quietly and sang under his breath.
"Liar, Liar. Pants on fire.."

The boys looked around at each other.
"What did you just say?" Elliot growled, shaking Damien again. Damien sighed with exasperation, as if he were talking to someone rather slow.
"I said.. Liar, Liar. Pants on " but before he finished, he looked to Pip, who's eyes were fixed upon Damien beholding a look of terror. Damien winked at him then looked back to his captor.
"Fire.." he said grinning. Elliot and the other boys looked confused for a moment and then, Damien was dropped to the floor suddenly…
Elliot's jeans had just caught fire. He screamed so loud that the other boys winced. He attempted to put the fire out by sitting on the floor and hitting his behind with his hands, but this achieved nothing. It seemed like the more Elliot tried to stem the flames, the bigger they grew.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Elliot screeched as the flames crept up his shirt. The other boys were staring at Damien..
"I told you he was the Anti-Christ!" Michael yelled, backing away from the writhing blonde. The other gang members knelt down to help dampen the flames. Damien grinned while walking over to the abandoned Pip and helping him up. Damien leant Pip against the wall, then winked again before going back to the group. He dragged the nearest boy to his feet via his collar and hissed: "I suggest you all run off home before I set you on fire, too…" in his ear.
The boy stumbled backwards, shaking and then pelted out of the alley way, closely followed by the other gang members and the still flaming Elliot.

Once Pip was sure the boys were gone, he scrambled to his knees, grabbed his hat and cradled his injured hand. Damien span round to Pip with a self-satisfied smile plastered across his face. He dusted his hands, then held them out to the side in a "Well?" gesture.
"And that's how you deal with bullies." Damien grinned, showing his famous fangs. "Now.. Lets have a look at that hand."

Damien knelt down and took Pip's hand in his own, leaving one hand free for Pip to replace his hat on his golden head.
"It's not broken." Damien muttered as he traced his fingers over the small knuckles of Pip's hand. Pip, however was oblivious to what Damien was saying… all he could think of, was the feeling of Damien's pale hands on his. For someone who lived in the burning fires of hell, Damien was awfully cold..
"Damien… your freezing." Pip stammered, forgetting about his own pain.
"Well, we do live in South Park, Pip." Damien said with a grin. He then dug into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling a black silk handkerchief out moments later. The corners were decorated with a small embroidered roses in a scarlet thread. Thin twirls of thorns were sewn along the seam, joining each rose to the next.
"Oh, Damien…" Pip gasped, staring at the fabric. "That cloth is amazing.."
Damien looked to the handkerchief and smiled.
"Yeah.. My mother sewed it for me when I was a baby." he said. Pip stayed silent. He didn't want to ruin the moment. This was the first time Damien had ever talked about any part of his family other than his father. Damien remained still for a moment, gazing at the cloth affectionately until he shook his head as if to snap himself out of a trance. He then wrapped the fabric around Pip's knuckles tight. He tucked the end in and stood up, abruptly. Pip stayed on the ground, not daring to touch the cloth wrapped around his hand.
"Damien… I… I don't want to ruin your handkerchief!" Pip said, finally standing up. Damien shook his head and began to walk out of the alley. For some reason, Damien's cheeks were warm and red… That had never happened to him before. Surely it couldn't be from holding Pip's hand… could it? He cleared his throat, remembering that he was still in Pip's presence.
"If I was afraid that it would be ruined, I wouldn't have put it on your hand, would I?" he asked, roughly. Pip thought this was a reasonable excuse, so therefore he began to totter slowly after Damien. All the way Pip held his hand as if it were something expensive and precious…