There's a lot in this world that cannot be explained. So much that it makes me wonder why humans don't question the world as much as they should.
For instance, all this "God loves us and would never hurt us" crap. If someone really loved you, they would do anything to make damn sure you never got hurt or in trouble. Yet, this world is nothing but trouble.
I'm sorry, do I sound angry? I don't mean to. It's just that this is getting to be the part of my story that impacted my life so much. Too much.
I wish God loved me. Maybe none of this would have happened then, but I guess it's not my fault that I am who I am.
A few girls at school used to call me the "spawn of the devil".
I just didn't know it was true.
Oh, the pits of Hell? They're doing fine, thanks for asking.
You see, I'll be taking over this portion of the story today, considering I am a great cause of the stress that has been inflicting my great granddaughter lately. So, let's see, where to begin?
Well, you should start off by knowing who I am, I suppose. Though, if you don't know already, you either are completely unaware of what this tale is about, or you could very well just be stupid. No matter, I'll inform you anyway. I happen to be Señor Diablo, or you may better know me as The Devil, or Satan.
There, now that we have introductions out of the way, allow me to explain to you that I did what I did because I had no other choice. I'm sure you haven't forgotten many…human years ago when I took away the Anti-Christ in my son, Pepito, and yadda, yadda, yadda. You know how it goes, yes?
Well, you see, all I needed was a new Anti-Christ, that's it. Unfortunately, it couldn't be Xavier, considering it could very well tamper with … eh… "new life" inflicted upon him. You see, Tabatha was the only choice, so I simply…had to.
Now, I don't want you to start going about thinking that I've "ruined the poor girl's life", and "she's been stressed enough", and all that human drama. I'm not trying to be the evil one here. I'm simply doing what has to be done.
So go on. Accuse me. Call me a "horrible creature", I don't mind.
But do keep in mind; I may very well see you in Hell one day.
I texted Luce the next morning, asking her if she would meet up with me around five o'clock when both of our schools were out. She replied almost instantly with a "For sure". I guess she wasn't as apprehensive as I was about what happened the night of the eclipse.
Either way, that morning, I felt like crap.
I passed on breakfast, as I thought I wouldn't be able to stomach it with all the pressure that's been inflicted upon me lately. All I really wanted was to breathe, and not have to worry anymore.
Anyway, something strange happened when I got to school that morning. My thoughts were still whirling, and my stomach was still churning, and I guess it just became too much for me.
It happened when I walked into homeroom and sat down in my desk, right next to Renee. She smiled at me, and I smiled back of course, until my stomach churning became more violent. The pain was something unheard of; completely indescribable. I put my head down and tried to concentrate on easing the pain, but all I heard were the noises around me.
Suddenly, the noises were gone.
Well, they weren't gone, exactly, but they were more…vibrant, I suppose. Then the static came. I heard a loud static in my head and it was right then when I just knew I was going to vomit.
Stumbling out of the classroom, I began to stagger down the hallway to the restroom, as I had become horribly disoriented, and thought I remembered bumping into someone who pushed me away. Either way, I was losing the sight in my eyes, as my vision was getting blurry.
Well, no, not exactly blurry. More like that experience, when you first wake up in the morning and you can't really see, until your brain is no longer fuzzy. That's exactly what it was like, actually.
My newly found disorientation proved to be displeasing, as I made my way to the restroom and ended up tripping on the doorframe and falling to the floor.
I relaxed, actually, once I hit that cold, hard floor. 'I'm…really tired…' I thought, as I closed my eyes and blacked out.
The last thing I heard was Renee's familiar voice, shouting for a teacher to come help. I suppose…she followed me.
Anyway, the next thing I know, a teacher—I didn't bother to open my eyes to see who—was leaning over me and asking me questions. Things like, "What happened?" and "Did you eat breakfast this morning?". I gave soft, muffled replied, and remember asking a mumbled question if I could get back to class because I felt better, but the nurse hoisted me up and helped me limp awkwardly to her office, considering I scraped both my knees on my tumble down, and it seriously hurt like a bitch.
Although, I was wide awake when she helped me sit on the blue little bed in her office. She handed me food, like a granola bar and water, and instructed me to eat it. I consumed the food as I explained to her the story of what had happened, told her I had skipped breakfast that morning, and sat through a phone conversation with the orphanage.
I got to stay at school (lucky me), and got a pass to get out of gym class.
The whole ordeal was a bit weird to think about, but what was even weirder was when I walked into the restroom again to see if I was totally pale or not (I wasn't, by the way. Good thing. I would've looked dead).
When I looked into that mirror, I certainly saw my reflection, but I didn't see me. I didn't see Tabatha. My eyes. They were fully a bright, vibrant red. The colour of blood before it dries. My eyeteeth. They were pointed and sharp, and could most likely cut through skin. I realized it made me look like a vampire. I looked down at my hands and saw that the nails were both fully black, and no longer completely chipped up.
'That's so weird', I thought. 'I don't remember repainting them.'
However, this last newly discovered feature was what really tipped me off my rocker. I ran my hand through my hair and felt something strange, something pointed. Tipping down my head to get a closer look, I saw it clearly.
I had fucking horns.
Something was wrong, so, horribly wrong. I had to be dreaming, I just had to.
It happened suddenly when I was pacing violently back and forth, still inside the school restroom. I caught a glimpse of smoke. Then it turned into a large swirl of smoke. Then, he appeared before me.
He was tall, very tall. He looked quite old, and bony. He was very skinny with black nails like my newly acquired ones, a set of horns, deep red eyes, and when he smiled, I could see his pointed eyeteeth as well.
"Well, don't look so frightened." His voice was deep and rumbly. "It's not every day your 'long-lost great grandfather' visits you, is it?"
I must have had the stupidest, most frightened look on my face in the world. I fell back against the wall and stared, not even daring to blink. I tried to say something, but absolutely nothing came out of my mouth.
"You're probably extremely shocked. I don't blame you." The old man smirked. "I get that look a lot."
Still, nothing came out of my fully opened mouth.
"You're probably looking for an explanation, aren't you?" he asked, very calmly. "Alright, then. First of all, the thought probably crossed your mind already, but yes, I am Satan. Oh yes, and you." He made a gesture towards me. "You are indeed my great granddaughter."
I swallowed deep and managed to get the words out. "I-I'm your…what?"
"My great granddaughter," the devil replied with a snicker. "You are Tabatha Diablo, are you not? Daughter of Xavier Diablo and Trinity Casil?"
So many questions were spinning through my mind, but I could barely sputter them out. "W-well, I mean, y-yes. I'm Tabatha. B-but I didn't really know my last name was D-Diablo."
"Ah, yes." A sudden realization seemed to creep over the devil's face. "They left you in an orphanage. How could I have forgotten?" He turned back to face me. "Well then, allow me to teach you a little family history."
"F-family history?"
"Yes," Satan replied. "You see, you're father, Xavier Diablo, was the son of my son, Pepito Diablo-"
"W-what do you mean 'was'?" I interrupted.
"Oh, believe me, that's a long story." Satan grinned. "Now, your mother, Trinity Casil, was the daughter of our last Waste Lock, Destiny Freeman. This whole ordeal screwed up Fate enough before-"
"No, really," I cut him off again, growing a little more confident. "I'm lost."
He frowned. "You know, this really is quite hard to explain. Allow me to help speed things up a bit."
The devil moved closer and touched a bony finger to my forehead. At first, nothing happened. Then, the images came.
I saw images of a girl with black hair and red stripes, a boy with the same horns and red eyes that I've acquired, a tall girl with black hair and emerald green eyes, and a boy with brown hair and scared, brown eyes. I saw murder and pain, but at the same time, I saw happiness and satisfaction. I witnessed the birth of a young boy with the cutest black fuzz atop his head, and I saw the growing of a young girl with long brown hair who always wore the biggest grin on her face. I saw image after image of the strange story that was being played out in front of me until one captured my attention fully; a man with black hair, and a woman, the one with the long brown hair. Only this time, she didn't wear a smile upon her face. She was crying, in fact, and I knew why. In her hands, she held a small child with large brown eyes, who I could instantly identify as myself. Tabatha Diablo.
Suddenly, it all stopped. I was back in the girl's restroom with the devil himself standing in front of me. The same scene as before. Only this time, I understood everything.
Satan stepped back and looked back at me. "Do you understand now?"
I nodded. I knew the entire story. Every detail, as if I was actually there.
I stood up, finally. "So why did you come here?" I didn't dare to look him in the eye, so I set my gaze just past him, staring at the door with hollow red eyes.
"To explain to you why all of this," he gestured toward me, "was happening."
I nodded, signaling for him to go on, even though I already knew what was coming.
"You know now that many years ago, I simply had to take away the Anti-Christ in my son," Satan explained. "You also know now that the new Anti-Christ cannot be his son, Xavier, your father."
I nodded, indicating that I did, indeed, understand.
"Which is why it has to be you, Tabatha."
That was when I snapped. When I thought I had surely gone insane. On the outside, I remained solemn, but the inside was hectic. My thoughts were scattered everywhere, my worries were increasing, my heart was racing, and my stomach was churning.
I sank back to the floor, having absolutely nothing to say, and buried my face in my hands, getting ready for a few tears to fall, but nothing came, so I just looked up, and stared ahead.
"Don't act so upset," the devil smirked. "It is a magnificent job. You'll see soon enough what comes with it." I didn't respond, so he continued. "Well, I'll be visiting again soon enough. Until then, I'll leave you to get back to class."
With that, he was gone in a puff of smoke, and I was left staring at a blank wall. My thoughts began to whirl rapidly once more.
So before I go on with my end of the chapter author's note, I'd like to thank Dirge (her new username is Rainbow Hipster and you have to go subscribe to her NOW) for this beautiful new plot point involving Tabatha being the next Anti-Christ.
Also, I'd like to add that any religious views expressed in this story are that of my character's and not my own.
Now then, please review, because I'm not going to update unless I get at least five reviews. Dirge and Bria don't count.
Until then, I bid you ADO!
~Nikki
