Warning: Rated 'M' for horror-genre violence, adult situations and adult language.
The main characters of this story are based on characters from the cartoon 'Code Lyoko.' I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.
Certain characters have been adapted from 'The Stand,' by Stephen King, and he is the copyright holder of these.
Certain characters are based on 'Hikaru No Go' by Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata. I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.
Brief references are made to a character from 'Watership Down,' by Richard Adams, and he is the copyright holder of this character.
Saturday
Jeremie spent the day avoiding his friends and his shame. He wandered around the Kadic campus, barely registering the world around him. In his mind, the images from his dream haunted him.
Even thinking about Mother Abagail didn't help. For she revealed the the real cause of his anguish. He had chosen this. He let that out. He would be the one responsible for their deaths and damnation and worse.
And the demon inside him roared with laughter.
Around lunch time, he could no longer ignore his body's calling for some kind of sustenance. He went to the school cafeteria to eat.
He walked in, got a tray, and proceeded down the serving line. Looking at the selections, Jeremie noticed something strange.
The food was different.
Instead of plates of jello, vegetables and the like, there were other things. Bits and pieces of body parts.
On one plate was an eye. Another an ear. One of the bowls looked like brains had been scooped into them.
Jeremie just moved down the line, taking nothing.
Rosa, the cafeteria worker, scooped out something and glopped it onto Jeremie's plate.
It was a woman's breast. Jeremie froze.
"What is it? Would you like more?" she asked him.
Jeremie screamed, dropped his tray, and ran out of the cafeteria. When he ran out the door, he ran straight through Odd and Ulrich, who were just coming in. He never saw them.
Jeremie ran as fast as he could back to his room. When he got there, he slammed the door shut and jumped into his bed, throwing the sheets over himself, trying to wedge himself between the bed and the wall. He laid there, sobbing, until he fell asleep.
Sunday
Jeremie woke early. It was still dark outside. He rose, like a puppet on a string, and went to the showers.
There he showered, but in his mind, he was being drenched in blood, Aelita's blood. He moaned when he saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror. To his eyes, he was covered in blood and little bits of gore all over his body.
And in his hands, tufts of pink hair.
He never bothered redressing. Something made him pick his clothes up and carry them. He walked back to his room, naked, carrying his clothes, one of the living dead. When he got there, he shut the door, threw the clothes in a pile on the floor, and returned to his prison.
After a while, a dark oily cloud emanated from the book on Jeremie's desk. It resolved itself into a somewhat humanoid shape, and regarded the sleeping boy.
Have I not done well, Master? it thought.
Yes, you have, my puppet, came the reply, I am well pleased with you, XANA.
The demon and his puppet both laughed.