A.N- Sorry for the late update. I had trouble writing this since school started and my time management skills just went to the moon, and I didn't know how to. So I finished all my homework to keep all of Anzac day for writing.
Poor lost souls of the war, protecting their country. But they were muttering a lot about the Japanese so I felt a little conflicted.
Anyway, thank you so much:
raisuke143(Dyle must increase!)
XWhiteRabbitX(Wow, I'm so happy you like my writing. And the guitar part! I had promised a guitar in this story months before writing it so yay, yessss!)
Your Fictional Affair(It's not much the chapter but my writing I find annoying sometimes. I'm really glad you can feel the characters feelings. I turn into the characters when I write them so their feelings kill me sometimes. So I'm glad you are (maybe?) getting that:))
MusicalRose1210(Update! I hope it's not too late)
And styleforever20(He he, thanks. But I don't think I could be better than you. I mean, everyone has their own writing style, like art. That and it's just grammar and spelling and crap like that…)
For your wonderful reviews! Gosh I'm blabbering on today! But probably no one's reading so it's all alright.
Here we go!
I hope you enjoy part three~
Chapter Fourteen: On a Highway to Hell
"You're late."
We arrive at Pip's and slip out of the Jeep still half asleep, to be greeted by a pout.
"Good morning to you too, Kyle." Damien smirks, his drowsy, hazy, not talking mode switching off to finally wake up for the day. "And no, I am not late. I am exactly on time."
The redhead narrows his eyes for a second and tenses like an angry cat, before giving up and releasing himself into the frozen morning air.
"Exactly nine o'clock." Kyle states, rolling his eyes half-heartedly. "Stan would never have been so precise." He sighs.
"Well, what can I say? I am not Stan."
"But I am!" I bite defensively. Damien simply shrugs and Kyle chuckles lightly, only to be interrupted by a distant wailing coming from deep inside Pip's rotting house.
"That's one guy who's definitely not on time." Kyle huffs. "He's been going on like that for at least ten minutes."
Damien raises his brows in amusement before creaking the front door open.
"Stell-lahhhhh!" An exaggerated moaning welcomes us into the fusty house. The second the British accent enters my ears Damien twitches my eyebrow in frustration before entering the bedroom.
We enter the room and see a gangly teen sobbing pathetically beside his bed, making Damien sigh in aggravation.
"You know, this is exactly why I said you didn't have to come." Damien states, looking over the shoulders of the shaking blond, hugging something desperately in his arms.
"Oh dearest Estella! I will miss you!" He sobs, ignoring the antichrist's presence.
"Pip." Damien sighs again calmly. "You have the locket, shouldn't that be enough?" I finally see that what Pip hugs in his arms is a glamorous frame. The Brit still doesn't answer. "Look Pip. She will be safer here." The antichrist slides the frame out of Pip's hand and places it gently on the bedside table. The beautiful young girl pouts in the frame. Her rich her released into brilliant golden waves, her pale cheeks tinted a rosy pink, her deep green eyes shine spectacularly, reminding me of a certain someone waiting outside.
"Now that you had your little streetcar moment, do you mind if we leave?" My voice suggests, a little sarcastically in mild annoyance.
"Oh, all right." Pip says, instantly relaxing as Damien pushes him out the door. I don't ask anything about the girl in the frame. I'm not risking listening to a whole novel about whom she is if I asked.
After Pip reluctantly ponders out the house Damien goes to the basement to get what he came for: his own body, lying frozen on the cement floor. He hoists his lifeless body up onto my shoulder, careful not to create any friction that might rub the blood off his chest, and walks easily out the basement.
"Wow, that's amazing dude…" Kyle's breathless voice murmurs behind the front door. Damien kicks the rotten wood open and stomps outside towards the two boys huddled around a vintage vehicle.
"It's nothing really…" Pip chuckles back, scratching the back of neck through his long strands embarrassingly, yet unable to suppress his leaking grin.
My feet digging through the snow catches their attention and Kyle flings his hands off the shining body of a beautiful '40s to '50s Chevrolet Sedan Delivery and beams at us.
"Damien! Take a look at this car dude! Don't you think it's sweet? Pip fixed the whole thing up from practically scratch!" He grins proudly as if it was him who had done it. And I guess it is- proud worthy, I mean. The ancient car, body perfectly polished, the interior tamed, doesn't seem a day old. It would look better in a museum or something than on the edge of a piss-ass town. If I had the freedom to move my own body, I would probably wag my own invisible tail and lick all over it excitedly at its beauty. Hey, being gothic was a phase to me doesn't mean that I still can't appreciate old things. But thank god Damien's controlling my body, walking to the back of the car nonchalantly.
"Yes, I know." Damien answers as he flings the trunk open, a small smile lifting my lips. "Pip is very talented in fixing cars I must say, unlike the driving of them…" He mumbles the last words out as he lays his body into the trunk, fitting easily with his knees bent to the side. God, now that I look at this car with a frozen body lying in the back it looks like nothing but a friggin' hearse.
"You done in there?" A soft voice echoes in my ears, way too close, shooting a quick shiver through Damien and making him jolt.
"Kyle." He says breathlessly, rubbing my ears that are probably burning from Kyle's breath. The redhead looks at me curiously, then falls into a short laughter before quietening down with a slight blush.
"Do you, er, mind stopping at my house on the way? I couldn't really- um, bring my bag here." He manages out with embarrassment.
Damien shrugs. "That would be possible. Why, did you forget it?" He chuckles softly. Kyle simply nods, deeply, trying to shrug at the same time.
"Yeah- yeah you could say that." He hiccups. As if Kyle would openly admit that he had forgotten something.
A loud slam comes from behind me and Pip reappears, hands rubbing together, his slightly long hair tied up at the back, keeping the strands out of his way. "Well I'm all set up in Stan's car. Are you two ready?" He asks brightly.
"Wait, I need to get Stan's possessions." My voice mutters as Damien makes his way to my Jeep and picks up my backpack and guitar.
"Is that all?" Kyle's mouth slumps open. "A small bag and Stan's guitar- dude, can you even play?" He brings his hands to his hips.
"I can't. But Stan insisted me to bring it." The antichrist answers. Kyle's eyes widen for a second, then slowly looks down, a small smile appearing on his lips. His subtle expression fills me with warmth, but it gives my heart a sudden cringe. Damien quickly averts my eyes away from Kyle and slides my baggage into the trunk of the delivery, careful not to hit his body with them.
"Now we're ready." Damien murmurs, slamming the trunk shut.
Pip hops up and spreads the Park County map over the roof of the car, the red pentacle still glimmering in the centre.
"What the hell is that?" Kyle asks, scrunching his nose up in confusion. "The star. The hell?"
"Oh, those indicate where we have to go." Pip explains, as if he's an expert. "You see the edges?"
The redhead tilts his head for a better view. "Fairplay, Jefferson, Bailey, Tarryall and Hartsel, yeah what's with them?"
The Brit explains confidently, although what he says is mostly borrowed from Damien. But the antichrist doesn't complain, he merely lifts my eyebrow in amusement, watching Kyle's expression drop in confusion, disbelief, and slight frustration.
"Dude, what the hell?" He comments on after the explanation. "I mean, goats and the railway, and your blood? I mean, Dude."
I agree with you Kyle, with all my heart, unlike the lanky blond who looks confused by your confusion.
"Anyway," Kyle shakes his head, "so basically all I need to know is, dig the grave, pour the blood and disconnect the railway, right?"
"Yes, that is pretty much it." Damien shrugs, then turns to face Pip. "So, do you know where you are going first?"
The blond rolls his shoulders, thinking. "I'll probably go to Jefferson first and then Fairplay. I'll probably end before you, yeah?"
Damien nods. "We'll start at Hartsel and move up," he traces the map with my finger, "finishing at Bailey. You can just come back to South Park after you're finished. Or you could go to Bailey and meet with us, although it would be a long turn-around. You can do as you wish."
With a quick nod of understanding, Pip releases his ponytail and his blond hair falls back into his face.
"Right. We should get going then." He smiles. "I guess I'll see you in a few days. Good bye Kyle!" His fingers dance in the air as a salute towards the redhead, who smiles and nods back.
We hear my Jeep burst to life and drive away. My heart slightly sinks in worry towards its safety in the Brit's hands.
"Is he going to be okay?" Kyle mutters, looking at the trail of smoke quickly beginning to disappear.
"He will be fine. No matter how stupid and clumsy he may seem, he knows what he is doing." With a reassuring smile towards Kyle, Damien slides into the driver's seat and Kyle follows suit, placing himself next to me.
x
I feel Damien twitch my eyes as Kyle struggles out of his house. He has been in there for a whole thirty minutes and as he drags himself out, I understand why.
"Kyle, we are not going for a survival in the jungle for a month. Do you really think we need all that?"
"Of course we do!" He pants as Damien lifts the monstrous hiking bag off his back with ease. "A tent, change of clothes, food, camping stove, change of gas, pots and pans, a flashlight, a sleeping bag- do you have a sleeping bag?" Damien shakes his head blankly. "I didn't think so. That's fine, my one is a double so we can share it."
My body flinches at the thought and I wish I could glare a warning into Damien, although that might be a bit hypocritical.
We jump back into the car, all ready to go with a guitar, a backpack, a large motherfuckin' hiking bag and a lifeless body lying in the trunk. This is going to be one hell of a journey.
"Oh, I almost forgot the best thing!" Kyle mutters, digging through his smaller bag (yes he has another one). "I noticed that this car only has a cassette player so…Tada!" He bursts to himself, taking out a shoebox. He opens it to present a series of cassette tapes. "I grabbed it quickly on the way out. Dude this is going to be awesome!"
He picks one out, examines it with a smile on his face and slides it into the cassette player, nodding excitedly as he waits for the music to turn on. Damien steals a glance of his bright smile as he takes out of the driveway; it makes a smile hint on my own lips.
A second later, the whole car bursts with an explosion of music and Kyle cheers for sheer pleasure of the excitement. He plays his skilful air guitar and almost yells the lyrics with his high-pitched voice. We- Damien and I, have no doubt that the music is leaking out the car and disturbing the outsiders, but it doesn't matter. Damien laughs and shakes his head at the redhead's act and Kyle beams at his reaction and continues. I would laugh myself if I could.
It's amazing us four, me, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman, I mean. We don't have much in common- actually we all pretty much represent completely different groups, yet we stay together. But maybe that's because there are some similarities that connects us. Music is one of them. And god, do we enjoy the time we shout out songs stupidly together. And how fun would it be right now, if I could join him and shout as well. But I hear his smile through his bright voice, and it makes me not want to complain.
"I'M ON A HIGHWAY TA HELL!" He sings, and slaps his knees as if he's the drummer.
After repeating that line a few times Damien gets a hang of it, and can't seem to hold himself in. He joins Kyle, unable to surpass the magic of conformism, and the lively energy leaking out from the redhead. He has that ability- to draw you in.
But as they sing, for a brief moment, my mind sobers up, just as we come to the edge of the town. We cross the train tracks and enter Kenny's side of town. And as we pass the blonde's house, our car still buzzing with music, I wonder why he hasn't sent a text back.
I made Damien send a text saying that Kyle, Damien and I would be out of town for a few days. He didn't really go into detail about our plan or the Devil's seal or anything, but it was enough information to make me satisfied, but it definitely was not enough to satisfy Kenny. I had betted that he'd complain or even throw a fit saying that he wouldn't let Damien go on a trip alone with Kyle (since I'm pretty much non-existent). But he still hasn't sent a text back. Maybe he's sick of getting involved. It's pretty fucked up shit we're going through.
Cartman had sent a text back though. Saying 'Eh, whatever.'
We soon exit the town, moving onto the never-ending road that leads into the horizon. The music is still going, and the two still shout: "ON A HIGHWAY TA-"
x
It takes longer than we thought, driving this old hearse. Damien doesn't push the speed and neither Kyle nor I have the guts to push this sixty year-old thing either. It might blow.
There aren't many stands on the way, just the occasional dying gas station, barely keeping itself up. We have to stop at every single one of them to keep us on our feet. Old cars eat fuel up like a starving elephant, I tell you.
We have gone through a few tapes and we have somehow end up listening to Cho-pin. I don't know how to pronounce his name.
"It's pronounced sho-pan" Damien smirks, his stance now much more relaxed on the wheel.
"Gee, thanks."
Anyway, it's much more relaxing than the screaming of AC/DC. We even stop for an hour or so to let our eyes droop.
"How much left?" Kyle mumbles, half waking from his light slumber.
"A couple of hours, perhaps." Damien answers, glancing at the boy sinking deep into his seat, legs tucked up to his chest tightly.
"Do you think we can make it by sunset?"
"Maybe."
And we do, just as the winter sun begins to set behind the tips of the high mountains. The town of Hartsel dyes in electric pink.
It's a really small town, Hartsel. So small in fact, that it makes South Park look like a goddamn city. I mean, we have a theatre, a mall, a hospital and crap. This place has like, I don't know, nothing really. Yet it's still one of the largest towns in this County.
"So, what's our plan?" Kyle asks, his mind waking up. "Are we going to do the blood thing now or are we going to do it tomorrow?"
Damien drives slowly through the gravel roads with a speed that can be caught up by foot. "Although the cemetery is just on the edge of town, now is still too bright. We should do it around midnight or later when it is darker."
"Midnight? Digging up graves at midnight?" Kyle moans.
"Yes. We should find a camping space just inside the woods, next to the cemetery."
"Camping next to a cemetery? Dude! Are you like, Goth or something?" His pale skin turns to a slightly unhealthy bluish shade. Damien chuckles.
"Don't worry Kyle. Dead people don't have many abilities."
Kyle pouts, a blush tinting his bluish skin. "I'm not scared." He grits.
"Then there is no problem."
The car jerks to a sudden stop and I notice that we've arrived at the entrance of the forest, a small cemetery right in front of us.
"Duuude…" Kyle shudders as he climbs out of the car, looking at the proximity with the cemetery. "Might as well just dig a grave up and share a coffin with a dead guy for the night."
He doesn't complain for very long though. He even begins to hum as he and Damien begin to build the tent up. It's pretty impressive, rainproof, keeping the warm in and all that. It's fairly small, but the Broflovski's know how to buy the right (as in expensive) stuff.
"Look Damien!" Kyle flaps his hand around, indicating to look inside the tent excitingly as Damien gets out some stuff out of the trunk.
Damien raises my eyebrows but peeps in with confusion.
"It's all up and ready." Kyle boasts, watching my expression. The double sleeping bag is spread readily in the centre, a couple of pillows lie across the head. Since when did he have pillows? "And see? I tied the light to the ceiling. Neat, huh?"
The antichrist just shakes my head with a smirk. "Impressive." He says smiling, and pulls out of the thing. Kyle smiles proudly.
Argh. I can't seem to get the thing out of my head. The double sleeping bag spread out like that cosily almost looks like nothing more than a no-tell motel. My whole mind shivers and boils at the thought that comes next. I will knit my lips together to keep myself from saying that aloud.
The canned soup that Damien and I had packed, I have found out, doesn't really work without a pot and a stove, which means that we would have been totally screwed if it weren't for Kyle's awesome packing.
We sit there around the small fire that they had made, the darkness long since crept upon us, hoping that no one notices the smoke or light. We aren't really camping on legitimate land and we have, sort of, created a fire in the woods, so we don't want to get caught, naturally.
Kyle sits there with his cup of soup, wrapped in many layers of clothing, some even borrowed from Damien, who sits with much less wrapped around me.
"Should we take a short nap before doing the work?" Kyle asks, breathing in the warm air of the soup. His breath turn white, and releases into the air, mixing with the ugly grey smoke of the fire. There is a tinge of glowing red in his orbs, making his green eyes blaze. His milky cheeks are pink from the frozen air and the warming steam from the soup. It's breathtaking.
"We should. Considering how late you came last night I doubt you had gotten much sleep."
The redhead nods, his eyes glazing over relaxingly as he places the warm cup of soup by his skin.
x
"You promise to wake me up?" Kyle reassures as we climb into the tent.
"Of course." Damien answers, 'of course' meaning 'no' of course.
The redhead slides into the sleeping bag first, quickly stripping himself out of the mountain of jackets and jumpers until he is only in his shirt and boxers before sighing deeply with content. Damien, although tensely, continues in with my jeans and shirt.
We lie there quietly, a small gap in the double sleeping bag between us. Soon, the beautiful warmness that Kyle was feeling seems to leak out of him and silently, he curls into a ball and his breath begins to shake.
"Are you alright Kyle?" Damien asks quietly.
"Just a little…" Kyle answers with a shaky voice, not finishing his sentence. But his voice explains everything.
At that answer my hands, although hesitantly, begin to move and break through the gap between us. Damien slides my hand carefully behind Kyle's back, and with great mental difficulty, pulls him close into my chest. My whole body tenses nervously, waiting for protest, but it doesn't come. Instead, the redhead lets out a shaky laugh.
"Thanks." He croaks and digs himself deeper into my body, searching for more warmth. For a minute or so he twists and turns, as if wondering what is the most comfortable spot in me.
"Dude, your belt's digging into me." He groans, shifting again. "Take it off." He mumbles.
Reluctantly, Damien does. Sliding my belt out of its place and swings it out of the sleeping bag.
"And your jeans." Kyle mutters under his breath.
"What?"
"Your jeans, dude. The fabric's a son of a bitch. It's scraping against my skin and it's really uncomfortable." He groans more and scrunches his face up in discomfort. He slides his hands down and rubs his hips where the jeans are scraping against him, rubbing into my thigh in the process.
"You are not getting these jeans off." I warn Damien with a growl.
"I won't" He rolls his eyes and tries to wiggle out of Kyle rubbing.
A second later, my whole body tenses, shudders to a stop as something fiddles around my pants.
"Kyle, what are you doing?" Damien asks at the redhead who is trying to undo my jeans.
"Dude, I'm taking off those pants. If you're not, I will." He growls when my hands shoot to catch Kyle's hands to stop.
"Fine, I will take them off, just please stop that." My face begins to boil, so much to the point that I begin to feel it. Kyle huffs and releases my zipper for Damien to do the job. I don't stop him. It's better than letting Kyle do it.
"Better?" Damien sighs deeply after my legs are released from the fabric. Kyle nods.
"Much." He says firmly, digging his way back into my warmth. "And it's much warmer this way too." Damien releases another sigh of breath before wrapping my arms back around Kyle.
He almost instantly falls to sleep, Kyle, his even breaths tell me so. But Damien doesn't seem to be able to, and I don't even try to in order to keep an eye on the antichrist. Kyle, cosy against my chest, mumbles gibberish softly every once in a while, but they slowly begin to turn into English.
"Stan," I hear my name and jolt. "Stan, you selfish bastard." He mumbles, scrunching up his nose in distaste and I turn to stone. Ouch. What the fuck?
"Stan-" He mumbles again, releasing the tension in his nose and furrowing his eyebrows instead. "Stan…" His voice is calmer, desperate. Damien's hold around him stiffens as Kyle continues to talk, his voice becoming quieter and quieter. "Stan, I'm sorry. I'm sorry Stan, I'm so sorry…"
His breath vibrates and his furrowed eyebrows begin to shake along with his lips. He's lost in there, desperate to reach out.
Looking at the boy struggling in his sleep, Damien chews on my lip and my forehead begin to tense. After a long second, my arms leave dreamer and reach up to untangle the light from the tent ceiling. Damien slides carefully out of the sleeping bag and digs my feet through my jeans. Not looking back at the moaning redhead as he leaves the tent. Only squinting at each of Kyle's desperate and painful words.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… Stan, I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for, Kyle?" I want to turn to him, to reach out to him, to say to him. "Why would you be sorry for anything?"
My clueless heart throbs painfully, hopelessly, and fearfully with each of his fragile cries. I want to scream.
A.N- Thanks for reading! Yeah, not much happened, but unexpectedly, I'm pretty satisfied with it. Is this what you call a filler? Anyway, I have planned my climax and there will be much more to come! And there were some hints in the chapter by the way ;) Now onto my mumbling!
I personally think that Damien may be one of the most alluring characters. He is cool yet passionate, has glowing red eyes, beautifully mysterious, polite and graceful and he is the son of the Devil! (Hey, that kinda rhymed!) And now he isn't scared to show himself so that personality is in Stan! Just imagine the mysterious classy aura that is now luring from the tall, well-built yet kind and soft looking quarterback! Mm-mmm.
But I still love Kyle most XD
Anyways. Until next time! Please review!
