Off the Pedestal:

Chapter One:

Full Summary: AU. Paul POV. First in the 'Disturbed' trilogy. His grandfather had always warned him about his powers, shifting especially. He'd ended up a cripple, and didn't want to see Paul end up like that. But it eventually got to Paul too, and though he's fine physically, he's now insane… Look out, Carmel, Paul Slater's coming to town.

A/N: Will be VERY dark. You've been warned. And this is rated M for a reason, okay? Violence, some death, bad language – it's all there.

Hope you enjoy it, cuz this is going to be a long, consistent series. Suze will come into it a lot more later, but she plays a sort of minor character at first.

A lot of parallel events in this series are in the books, though there are some moments that aren't there. The speech is different, as is the attitude.

This isn't that long, but I've planned out all the chapters, and they'll get progressively longer because, as the plot thickens, the strong picks up and more is planned. XD Can't wait 'til I get to the more exciting chapters… -cough-

Writing insanity is hard, you know. So give me a break, I'm developing the writing style – I don't mind if you SUGGEST how to get it across, but don't say it's total crap or anything without a little con crit. I also realize a lot of the randomness. I tribute this to insanity.

Set in the timeline of Haunted.

Oh yeah, I'm gonna dedicate this fic to Elaine (GroovyBananas) and nikki007, because they always review, and always review nicely. So, thanks a bunch, guys.

I'm sitting in the office of the principal, and, let me tell you, it's a load of crap. He's a bloody priest. And he looks like he's at least 100 and is utterly delighted to have me in this school, which is also a load of crap. If a priest happily welcomes someone who's just been expelled, he's got to be a crackpot.

He's waffling on, and I kind of zoned out. I zone back in. "…and I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself here, Mr. Slater."

I start laughing quietly then, but manage to conceal it. Enjoy myself? Yeah, right. Well, maybe I could enjoy myself by blowing the school up or something, but the damn guy's a priest, and I'm sure the old dude up in the sky wouldn't take too kindly to it, if he even exists. I mean, can you imagine, 'welcome to my house. Let's check your record. You blew up a school? You? Wow, can you do it again?' The thought is so absurd that I burst into sudden loud, uproarious laughter. The priesty guy stares at me as if I'd grown another head. What's his name, anyway? I know it began with a D… Father David, Dennis, Dominiscus, Dogface, Dabastard… Something like that. I think I'll just call him priesty for now.

"Mr. Slater, are you alright?" He asks, concerned.

I laugh harder. Through tears of mirth, I respond. "I'm absolutely fine, Father." Haha… Father, sounds funny, doesn't it? Like he's my father, biological and all that. Can you imagine your own father preaching to you? 'Oh, dear child, work your hardest and enjoy your life… and do your best not to anger God. You see…' Insert fifty hours of preaching. Yawn. What a load of crap, particularly when you've heard it fifty million times over.

Priesty – I really should remember his name, but my attention span really isn't the best – is, in other words, an old twit. Nice old twit, but hey, what difference does being nice make? Load of crap, if you ask me. Anyway, he stares at me, and then smiles painfully. "Mr. Slater, I will escort you to class…"

And he does so.

See, this proves my hypothesis. What kind of guy who isn't a priest offers to escort a kid to their classroom, when they're the principal? Most of them wonder what the trouble is, then call somebody else to take them, but oh no, not the good Father. Probably thinks he's doing some kind of favour to his Lordship – helping others and all that, actually helping the community… Hey, you know the drill. Or maybe he's just worrying about what was written about me on that report? That makes sense. Doesn't want me to kill anyone, or something.

Well, he doesn't need to worry. I don't kill anyone.

Well, unless they deserve it, but that's another story. If I'm provoked, however, it's not my problem. It's theirs.

I stroll into the classroom, without saying so much as bye. I was introduced to the class and all that, and all the while, I just went and sat in a seat. A seat next to a girl who looked like she was constantly sucking lemons or something. Loads of the girls were staring at me. I gave a fake, angelic smile, then turned to the front. It's annoying, really.

The girl next to me leaned over and whispered as Mr. Whats-his-name (Walden, I think? Something like that? Ah, who cares) carried on with his lesson, "hi. I'm Kelly Prescott, who are you?"

I stare at her for a minute. Cute girl and everything, absolutely cute, but dumb as a brick. He'd just introduced me, for God's sake. Damn, I thought people were supposed to be intelligent here, you know, with all their wonderful gifts from up above? Hey, can you just imagine something where people have something like that fairy thing? 'I bless thing child with these gifts, blahblahblah'. Well, whatever the hell Kelly had been blessed with, they'd seemed to forget about a brain. Can you even function without a brain? Oh, where was I…

"Paul Slater." I say nonchalantly, trying to turn back to the lesson. On no account am I eager to learn, but when face with severe density, it's always preferable. She ignored the signs, however. Typical.

"Welcome to the Mission Academy, Paul, you'll fit right in," she gushed with a massive smile that made me want to vomit. If she tried any harder, she'd be brain-fried or something. Not that that wouldn't be an improvement or anything. "I'm the class President."

"Good for you," I say. She ignores me. Oh great, I end up sitting next to a bloody self-centred idiot. If she were in clown make up and falling off a tightrope, she wouldn't look more stupid or dumb.

"Yeah, there's some great people over here…" She then proceeds to go on about anyone 'worth talking to' which is a really long list. I glare at her. I can't remember any of them and don't care, and then, anyway, I've had enough. You would have had too, if she'd been listening to her for half a bloody hour, then heard, "and that's Brad, who's like totally cool, but his stepsister is a load of whack sometimes, though she's class VP and better than those freaky friends of hers, and then that's Scott, who's…"

She rattles on for a little bit again, then says, "and Paul, you can, like totally be one of us. We're totally cool, and it's like, the best people in the school, and everyone looks up to us, and, like, it's awesome, because everyone who doesn't agree is just totally weird."

She's saying that I'm weird because I don't believe that her bunches of claptraps are walking enmities? Geez, this whole class is crap. I turn to face her slowly, my eyes glittering in anger. "Shut the fuck up."

She shrinks backwards, the whole class staring at me, Walden too. "Mr. Slater, you do not say that word at all – particularly not in a Catholic Mission!" He sounds like a nun or something. It's funny.

I chuckle dryly. If possible, they stare even more. I smirk; halting my laughter, then get up from my seat, almost daring anyone to follow me. They won't, though. They're all a bunch of cowards. No one stands up to me. No one.

I walk out the classroom in complete and utter silence. I can't resist a look back, and nearly choke at look on Walden's face. Total shock. Ha, this is great.

Staring at everyone, though. I don't think I'm going to be too popular. Ah, who cares? I always get what I want, and I go to whatever lengths to get it. It's not like they have a choice in the matter.

A/N: Hehe, do you like it or not? Next chapter should be up by Tuesday, hopefully. Review, please.