He's a real nowhere man

Sitting in his nowhere land

Making all his nowhere plans for nobody

Doesn't have a point of view

Knows not where he's going to

Isn't he a bit like you and me?

Nowhere Man, please listen

You don't know what you're missing

Nowhere Man, the world is at your command

He's as blind as he can be

Just sees what he wants to see

Nowhere Man can you see me at all?

Nowhere Man, don't worry

Take your time, don't hurry

Leave it all till somebody else lends you a hand

-The Beatles, Nowhere Man

Possession

Ch 3:

Within the Room 751 of the Amity Park General Hospital ICU, a boy began to stir to the sound of violin music. Damien's eyes opened slowly, blinking against the bright light… "Mozart's Requiem in D Minor?" He glanced around the room until his eyes fell upon the mirror on the table across the room. Within it Azrael sat in a flawless full lotus moving the bow effortlessly across the astral instrument in his hand.

"You had me scared for a minute there…" Muttered the Demon as he quickened his pace, "I thought you actually succeeded when I started fading."

"How are you-?" Damien started before Changing his mind, "Why am I still here…I should be dead… I" he faded as he saw the extensive bandages fixed to his wrists.

"That was gutsy kid," His other side laughed, "But let's face it, you're useless. You've been trying for two centuries to get rid of me, why not just give in? Together, we could be great."

"I've seen what you do when you're given the opportunity…" Damien murmured touching the scar that ran below his left eye, marring what he had been told many times was an otherwise perfectly handsome face. Personally he liked it better this way, it was a reminder of the pain, a reminder of the fact he was alive, not to mention a souvenir from the day he had been cursed.

"You're thinking about that again huh?" Azrael chuckled, "Stop beating yourself up about what happened to them, you know the adage "Live by the sword-"

"Die by the sword…" Damien finished, "Those who live violently are fated for violent deaths. My lifestyle determines my deathstyle."

"Exactly, but that's just it, what are the odds, that I, your mirror opposite, would be the one sent to destroy the Order."

"Slim to none" The young monk said quietly, he could see where this was going.

"It's fate, you and I, alone you were just some altar boy, and I was just an instrument of wrath, but now-"

"We're a ticking time bomb! I hate what you've made me become! I'm sick of being manipulated by a demonic parasite!" Yelled Damien as he jumped up from the bed, causing thousands of dollars of expensive equipment to be dragged with him, the monitors still attached to him. The incessant beeping of his heart monitor grew faster to a deafening cacophony, before he ripped it off causing the monitor to flat line, as he ran across to the mirror. "I won't do your dirty work, and I won't be used to hurt innocent people. FUCK YOU!" He screamed before driving his fist through the looking glass, cracking his reflection into a thousand mocking frames. As the blood ran from the cuts in his hand, he ran his saturated finger over a larger shard, painting a small red smiley face on the small pane of glass. Damien too found himself smiling, and began to laugh.

The doctors were stunned when they found the teenager laughing hysterically by the shattered mirror, tears running down his cheeks. He was given a sedative, and restrained to the bed with leather straps.

"This kid doesn't need a surgeon, he needs a fucking psychologist." Muttered one male doctor as they left the room.

"According to this," said a college to his right, flipping through several pages on a clipboard, "He has one scheduled for this afternoon, a Mr. Lancer."

"The teacher from the Highschool?"

"Umm…Yeah, that's him." Answered the other doctor after a little more flipping, "Why you know him?"

"He teaches my daughter, Samantha says he likes to torture kids….I think she's joking, but it's hard to tell sometimes."

"Maybe he'll finally have a worthy recipient." Smirked another medic as they turned a corner. "I have to get to a class, thanks Dr. Manson."

------------------------Meanwhile------------------------

-So he was just lying there?-

Danny groaned audibly into the receiver, "Yes, Sam, the guy was just lying there by the Portal, bleeding to death."

-Do you think there's a chance it's ghost related?-

The halfa sighed thoughtfully, "Maybe, but there was no fog on my breath, no indications…. that's just not normal. I mean, if he was a hybrid like me I could see that possibility."

-Maybe he is, I mean he could have broken in trying to rob your house, and stumbled into the ghost zone and freaked during the transformation and tried to kill himself.-

"If Vlad's any Barometer, I think you can sufficiently say that the process can mess with some people's minds."

-Should I start worrying about you?-

"You weren't already?" Danny laughed sarcastically. Even over the phone, he could see her smiling. She looked better that way, he had long ago decided, much better than that pessimistic scowl she had taken to wearing no matter what the occasion. Much better that way in fact… Down right angelic…

-Anyway, I've got to go, Later Danny!-

Sam pressed the end call button on the portable phone and sank back onto her bed. It had happened again. As much as she hated to admit it, things were getting awkward between her and Danny. It was like ever since they'd entered highschool, she felt different around him… for the first time since they'd been friends, she had secrets….

"I'm in love with my best friend…." Moaned Sam miserably.

------------------Later at The Hospital------------------

"So…" Lancer, muttered rifling through a pile of papers, "John-"

"Damien," The Patient scowled, "They give the name John Doe to every unknown male."

"I see," The volunteer psychologist sighed, "So, Why'd you try to kill yourself?"

Damien turned his head aside, "It's complicated, you wouldn't understand…"

"Try me."

"Imagine for a second, that you're torn between who you think you are, and what you have been forced to become, and that no matter which you decide to be, your actions have horrible consequences…"

"Trouble at home then?" Mr. Lancer smirked

"I suppose that's a way to look at it." The teen smiled

"You runaway?"

"No, I killed them." Damien said, having allowed Azrael a word in edgewise

"Haha…" Chuckled Lancer sarcastically, "But seriously, it's normal to feel some tension, if not resentment towards your family, it's part of adolescence."

"Maybe," his patient smiled pushing his ebony locks back behind his ears. "I wouldn't worry to much about that. My family's dead, I think it's more residual guilt that's been doing this to me. Still, that's over killing myself isn't doing anyone any good."

"We've made some good progress here. You'll be going to school where I teach, when they release you into a foster family. Look me up when you get the chance. Until then get some sleep."

"I'll do that," Damien smiled before leaning his head back onto his pillow and shutting his eyes, burning from exhaustion.

-----------------------To Be Continued------------------------------

A/N- Hopefully you enjoyed this, although I don't know why you would. If you are of either connation, I'd appreciate some reviews…please…don't make me beg.