A/N- Ugh… So sorry about the wait! Here's the next chapter
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Dead men working, a sinner, a saint.
Mixing up a pail of paint.
Painted the house, black as night,
When the sun came up the house was white.
Violent Femmes, Color Me Once-
Ch 6
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Damien walked down the ill lit and abandoned hallway that lead to the locker rooms, clutching his left arm as pain shot up from his hand. The Cross-Shaped scar on his palm, dripped blood like a metronome as his breathing grew more ragged with pain. This unholy stigmata was the price he paid for his demonic powers. This pain was his cross to bear. "One of these day's Az…." He muttered as another wave of agony shot through his arm. That had been a rather minor transformation, limiting the pain to only one portion of his body. He'd actually been in complete control the entire time although his body hadn't changed much. He was thankful for that, the greater the metamorphosis, the greater the agony.
"Please you should be thanking me," The demon's voice chuckled, "Did you see their faces? This generation worships people who can inflict pain."
"How would you know?" The teen smirked cynically.
"Our hospital room had free cable, I got bored and borrowed your body while you were sleeping. Lucifer knows it doesn't need the rest." Damien sighed at Azrael's words. He always had a way of knowing just what buttons to push. True, their body didn't need sleep; in fact he was fairly sure it didn't even need air. Regardless, he liked to indulge in both; the habits made him feel more human, more normal. This is not to say however that his astral self, the portion of his psyche that remained independent of the demon, didn't need sleep. In fact even now, he felt kind of tired. He yawned widely and leaned against the wall allowing himself to sink slowly to the floor. All this thinking cost a lot of energy.
As Damien sat there staring blankly ahead, he became vaguely aware of the locker room door opening as the creak of it's hinges and sound of footsteps broke the silence. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, really not wanting to deal with anyone at this moment. "Damien?" The possessed teen's ears perked as he turned his head to find Jazz Fenton looking down at him. She was fresh from gym class, and the tiniest shimmer of sweat was still visible on her face causing it to shimmer in the dim light, while her clothes clung to her body in a way that was very flattering. He felt his heart do a tiny flip.
Azrael sighed 'We are way too old to deal with hormones…'
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As his peers slowly filed out of the locker area, Danny stared in awe as Dash, the same muscle bound jock who had made his life a living hell was lead to the nurse's office, clutching his mouth and sputtering wildly. He'd stood there and watched how the entire fight played out. He'd seen everything, even the barely noticeable change made by the other participant. He looked towards his friends. Tucker was speechless for once in his life, while Sam stared ahead at where the fight had raged but moments before.
"Danny?" She asked, her shock showing through her voice, "Did you see that? What was up with his eyes?"
He shook his head, "I don't know, probably the same thing that's up with the rest of him. We have to watch Damien really closely from now on. Just look for anything suspicious, this guy has paranormal written all over him."
"Well," Tucker smirked, breaking his uncharacteristic silence, "We could invite him along to the fair tonight. That way we'd have an excuse to watch him all evening."
"Wow…" Sam said eye's widening in surprise, "That's actually a great idea…. How's that possible?"
Danny sighed, "Eh… Law of averages…"
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"Hey Jazz," Damien smiled awkwardly up at the approaching Fenton. She eyed him with scrutiny taking all his odd behavior into account. She raised an eyebrow as she noticed how much he was sweating, and how he was gripping his left arm very tightly.
"You feeling okay?"
"Yeah," He groaned, taking in another labored breath, "I'm doing great, feeling just peachy…" Jazz crouched beside him, noting a how his hand was bleeding pretty steadily.
"I guess you can't really come out of a brawl like that without a scratch. Funny, you really didn't strike me as the fighting type…" She sighed
"You heard about that?"
"News travels really quickly around here." The red head smirked, "You want to go to the nurse?" She was met with only the shaking of Damien's head, which caused his hair to fly out comically. "So what class do you have now?"
"Ugh… I forgot I still had those," He groaned, "Umm… Advanced Drawing."
"Seriously" Jazz smiled, "Same!" She extended a hand to help him up. He grabbed hers firmly and pushed himself to his feet, "How are you in that class? Aren't you too young?"
Damien barely suppressed a grin, noting how her touch seemed to have alleviated some of the pain "Eh, call it a gift…"
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Ms. Pendergast was an interesting woman who wore a long pink tie-dyed linen shirt over a pair of worn paint stained jeans and spoke with a Cajun accent. "Welcome back class, I assume we're all prepared to continue on our projects." Her eye caught Damien's, "Or perhaps I shall reiterate as to what that project is. We are in the process of making self- portraits of your soul." Damien's eyes flew open. This would not end well. "I want you to sketch not what you look like, but what you are inside."
Moments later he sat before a blank sheet of paper, a drawing pencil in one hand and a piece of charcoal in the other. He breathed out, painfully aware that the teacher's eyes were fixed on his every motion. Damien closed his eyes and brought the black stick to the paper and began to rub furiously. Jazz looked up from her drawing of a Greek statue to see, what he was doing. At first She was confused as to what the hurried blur of black lines was, until it began to form… wings. Within moment's she found herself gaping at a black winged male "angel" nailed to a cross, it's wings nailed instead of its hands. His head was turned to the side, partially obscured by a veil of hair, but visible enough to make out black tears running down from its eyes. Two small horns grew from its forehead, as a tilted halo hovered over its head.
Damien's hand shifted as his pencil drifted above the sacrilegious crucifix and began to write in an untidy, but determined scrawl, "Abashed the devil stood and saw how awful goodness is, saw beauty in her form, how lovely…"
"Ahh…." Damien jumped as he felt a hand upon his shoulder, "So the boy reads Milton." He turned around and was met with Ms. Pendergast's smile. At first he was unsure of what she'd meant, and then he glanced down at what he had drawn.
"Oh yeah, Paradise Lost is one of my favorite reads…." He blushed, struck by the irony of that statement. His skull shook slightly with the Azrael's laughter
"For the record," The Demon chuckled, "That epic is very misleading…" Damien brought a hand up and smacked it against his skull, satisfied with the resulting yell from his unwelcome guest. He glanced over at Jazz and smiled allowing his unnaturally long canines to shimmer in the light. He pointed at her drawing.
"Nice Bust…" She blushed furiously and turned her attention back to her own project.
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On the floor below Danny sat in third period English. Suddenly he shivered. Sam glanced over at him. "You okay Danny?"
"Yeah, just a bad vibe…"
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A/N- Again sorry for the wait, now for some reviews
Wiggle Lizard- I find it very Ironic that you misspelled "errors", thanks for the review!
InuPhantom- How am I supposed to respond to that? (Chuckles uncomfortably) Okay! I got it. So, Jesus Christ walks into a hotel and he hands the innkeeper 3 nails and says, "Hey, Can you put me up for the night?"
Kastirina-123- Umm…. Thank you? (Scratches head) I'm not going to question your taste in men, especially those with a serious demonic influence….
Until next time, The Rambler is out!
