A.N- Hey! There's gonna be much more action here on now so I changed the genre- yet again! Anyway, Thank you so much for reviewing:

Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi (Kenny with his creepy tracking device, love it!)

XWhiteRabbitX times two! (I read back the earlier chapters and I've been deliberately changing writing styles, because when I'm re-reading I get really bored and the tempo doesn't seem right. I thought it was because I was being too descriptive on emotions. But do you like the earlier chapters better? You review like a ninja! Love you!)

VagaryFlin (Glad you like it!)

And sexyablonde (I know! The lack of Dyle, (sigh))

Hope you enjoy~


Chapter Sixteen: The King of Demons

"Kenny?"

The call of the unexpected name flings my eyes open, and with great difficulty, Damien pulls my torso up, stars interfering my vision as he does.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

And no lie, there he is, leaning comfortably against the doorway with his hands digging into his parka pockets, looking down at Kyle with an entertained glint in his eyes.

"Surprise." He kisses the air with perked lips, letting out a flirtatious smirk.

"Surprise? Surprise- oh fuck it, come in." Kyle pulls the blonde's arm aggressively out of his pocket, making Kenny tumble into the room as the redhead slams the door shut behind him. He turns after the loud 'slam!' Revealing an irritated pout in place, emerald eyes narrowing and thin arms crossing in front of his chest defensively as he faces Kenny hopping to gain balance.

"Thanks for welcoming me in Kyle." The blond smiles, looking down at the accusing redhead. "Damien." His smile and sparkle in his eyes instantly drop when he greets the antichrist.

Damien doesn't say anything, just narrows my eyes as the stars begin to fade out of my vision.

"Kenny, listen to me." Kyle snaps his fingers in front of Kenny's glaring eyes to catch his attention, dragging the piercing blue eyes off of me. "What the fucking hell are you doing here." He pronounces each word clearly, but then quickly shakes his head in realisation. "Actually, how the fuck did you get here?"

"I came here with my truck dude, what else?" A smile returns onto Kenny's thin lips as fast as changing channels and he plops himself onto the foot of my bed. "I couldn't trust a word that little devil says so I decided to come here. I knew you would be here since it's the cheapest place around. The fat lady at the counter told me which room you guys were in."

"So much for… whatever legal business works around there." I mumble. Damien snorts.

But Kenny… What the fuck is he thinking? Is he really that paranoid that Damien is just gonna dangle Kyle from the ankles at the top of a building and let him go just for some demonic pleasure? Is he really that protective?

A deep sigh leaves Kyle's throat and the redhead pinches the bridge of his nose, a familiar habit that makes me want to smile watching him do it.

"Kenny," Kyle says softly as he takes his own space on his bed, "we aren't on just any kind of vacation you know."

"Oh really?"

"Really." Kyle glares at Kenny's slight sarcasm. "We are actually doing something very important and we are nearly done. We honestly would have been done and be on our way home tomorrow, even without you worrying."

His green emerald eyes swim until they land on mine, staring as he asks the question through green sparkles: "Can I tell him?"

Damien shrugs in confirmation.

"Okay." Kyle nods. "Damien, you should rest now. We only have a few hours until we should go to work."

"Work? What work?"

But we all ignore Kenny's voice and Damien smiles thankfully, before dropping my back heavily into the bed. I barely hit the mattress before the antichrist drowns into a complete sleep.

I try and listen into their conversation once the antichrist drifts into calm breaths, but Kyle, with his caring nature, talks really quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping devil, making it hard for me to listen in. Kenny on the other hand, doesn't seem care that much about keeping his voice down low.

"…Dude, you ain't taking shit out of my ass Kyle. Really? Oh yeah. Huh? What! Sick… ...So you already finished most of them? …Lower Crow Hill Cemetery is the last one left? …Huh."

Just by listening to his changing tone, rising high and low, calm to sarcastic, and what he says is enough to determine where the conversation is at. Kenny is more understanding of the whole issue, although he sounds very critical of it, and doesn't confront Kyle for too much detail. Or maybe he just doesn't want to get himself too confused.

Their voices slowly pick up a new tone, high and playful, Kyle even forgetting to keep his voice low at times. A few hours seem to pass with them just having a pleasant conversation.

"Aw, Kenny. We all know you're here because you were feeling soooo lonely in South Park, alone with no one but fatass to comfort you." Kyle's voice coos.

"Yeah. I was soooo fucking lonely." I can practically hear Kenny roll his eyes, but then his voice turns a tone deeper, words coming out of a frown. "But dude, seriously. You don't know how much I was worried about you. Both of you. I mean how could you! He's the fucking son of Satan for fuck's sake! Aren't you scared at all? Don't you even think?"

"Kenny, Goddamn it. Just because he's the son of anyone doesn't mean shit!"

"Why wouldn't it?" Kenny barks in amusement. "Kyle, he's the prince of darkness. He's probably tortured millions of souls, killed, burned innocent people still alive! Who knows what he's been up to, really, huh? You can't trust him! Why the hell would you even be with him?"

He doesn't sound as outraged as his words might indicate, but more- challenging. Honestly confused, unable to understand Kyle's thoughts or intentions. But whatever thoughts he's having, his asshole attitude is making even me irritated and frustrated. God knows how it's affecting Kyle.

"What The Fuck Is Wrong With You?" A desperate voice bellows, torn between sadness and rage. "Damien isn't like that at all! He has emotions just like a human being, and he is much more polite than you or me! You're the one who has been with him the most, more than any of us, why wouldn't you know that! You should know better, dude. You don't sound like yourself."

"I don't?" Kenny blinks in wonder; I imagine from his surprised voice. "Well, sorry, I guess. I'm just a little- confused right now." And he sounds it too.

A long silence dominates them for a long moment, and all I hear is ragged breathing, until a hardly audible chuckle rustles the air.

"Kyle, can you get me a beer?"

"What? Dude, I'm not getting a beer from the motel fridges! None of us are old enough!"

"Yeah, I mean, can you get me a beer from my truck? I have a stash in the back."

"Kenny why would you-"I hear a small growl of frustration leak out of Kyle's throat. "Whatever. No, go grab it yourself dude."

The sound of dangling keys –probably of Kenny's truck- rustles, followed by the blonde's cooing voice. "Pretty please, Kyle? I'll promise I'll behave if you do." And honestly, how could a reasonable friend of Kenny's such as Kyle say no to that?

"Fine." Kyle spits and snatches the keys off the blond. "But I'm only getting you one."

"Sounds good ta me. Thanks dude."

With merely a grunt in response, I hear the door slam close.

As expected, an eerie, almost ear-hurting silence follows. I feel suddenly stiff and watched, like a monkey being observed in a cage.

The springs in the bed slightly creak and I notice that Kenny has lifted himself off the foot of this bed. Where the fuck is he going? I think, until I hear steps approach right up beside my head. I imagine my heart begin to race, sweat forming on the back of my neck; but the twitch in my toes, that is not my imagination.

"How is it in there, Damien?" Kenny says, bitterness lingering in his mocking tone. And is he- caressing my cheek? "You comfortable little Dee?" His voice whispers into my ear, and for that second I turn into stone. My whole body freezes, petrified.

An amused hum rings out of Kenny quietly, and the hand caressing my cheek pats the skin a couple of times before I hear him begin to retreat back to the foot of my bed.

What the fuck? What the fuck was that all about?

"Kenny I got your fucking beer- your truck's a friggin' mess dude, it stunk!" A disgusted voice rocks the room when the door is slammed back open, announcing the return of the redhead. "Here. And I told you: only one." I imagine him hand the beer reluctantly to Kenny.

"Thanks dude." A cheerful voice thanks. The top of the beer instantly shoots off, and I hear the small bubbles fizzing inside the bottle. A few long gulps, and then comes a loud breath of content. "Ah- life." Kenny says.

"Is it really that good?" The redhead muses amusingly.

"Good? Dude," more eye-rolling I presume, "try for yourself."

From the small clicking of nails on glass, I can tell that the bottle has been given from Kenny to Kyle. I imagine the redhead staring at the bottle, held securely in his two hands, with a troubled gaze. He won't drink it.

"What Kyle? Come on, it's just a little sip!"

But Kenny's words provoke him.

"I know!" And he lifts the bottle up, cold glass pressing against his soft lips, and the liquid begins to enter his mouth; I can visualise it, and then I can see it.

My body swings up into the air, almost like a reaction, and my eyes goggle at Kyle with anxious disbelief, my breath slightly rigid. Everything seems to move in slow motion. His eyes glue tightly closed, eyebrows knotted together, as his Adam's apple moves up- then down.

"Damien, are you okay?" Kyle asks, after letting out a small cough from his sip of beer. My wide eyes move from the worried redhead to the blond smirking at me provokingly, and then back to Kyle.

"Are you alright?" My voice asks in confusion, my eyes not blinking. "I mean," Damien nods at the bottle of beer, "do you feel any different?"

"What?" Kyle chuckles, slightly taken aback. "Just because I never drink doesn't mean I can't take a small sip of beer y'know?"

Finally, Damien lets my eyes blink, a few times in confusion. "Huh…" He breathes out and shakes my head.

"Yeah, what did you think I'll do Dee? Drug him up 'n' rape him?" Kenny rolls his eyes as he takes the bottle back from Kyle to take a large gulp. Kyle, scrunching his nose up in disgust, pushes Kenny's shoulder with irritation for that remark, making the blond cough a few times on his bitter drink.

"Shut the fuck up will you!" He hisses quickly, then his eyes run back to meet mine.

"Damien, you woke up at the perfect time!" The redhead smiles. "I just went outside and Bailey seemed pretty mellowed out. The whole town was almost completely black and silent. I think all the tourists decided to have an early night."

Again, Kyle's quick switch of thought puts my slow mind into mild confusion, but Damien understands that statement instantly, even without thought.

"I guess I'll get going then." My voice suggests as Damien lifts my recovered body off the bed, stretching slightly before hopping onto the floor. Kyle follows suit by swinging his jacket around his shoulders, before Damien lifts a hand to stop him.

"You don't need to come Kyle, but can you do me a favour and keep an eye on that blond?" A loud, rumbling burp interferes Damien's words and we all swing our heads to glare at Kenny, who shrugs with a sheepish smile. The antichrist sighs tiredly and turns back to Kyle. "Babysit him please while I finish this off?"

Kyle, as if to measure his options, takes another glance at Kenny, who fiddles with the label on the beer bottle until he notices our gaze and lifts his eyebrows.

"Or I can come you know?"

"I'll look after him." Kyle ignores Kenny's words and says with a series of reassuring nods, making Damien smile with kind appreciation.

"Thank you. Call me if anything goes wrong."

Kyle smirks, half rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Because babysitting Kenny is such a hard chore. Dude, I'll be fine. Go-"

He gives my back a playful push and Damien stumbles out the room, managing to grab my bag skilfully on the way out.

The pinning air attacks my face when we get outside; I can feel it tingling my senses. I'm on the verge to getting my body back and I'm beginning to feel, if only slightly, like tickling the surface of a fingernail. Damien may have gotten his energy back, but there's still something that has definitely gone haywire, and I mean more than before. The sense quickly disappears when Damien hops into the car.

"You must be excited." Damien asks in a tone I can't really make out, and the delivery roars to life.

For some reason suddenly, my mind feels mellowed out. Like, when a fierce wind feels like it's blowing away all your thoughts when you're in the car with the window down. "'bout what?" I ask.

"About gaining your own body back, of course."

"Oh, yeah." I sound as if I've just noticed that small fact. And I have, and now that I have, I don't know how to feel. "Of course I am."

And then, inside me, there is warmth that begins to spread. And subtly, I feel excited, and purely happy. I will be able to feel him again, with my own hands under my own control.

The idea.

We arrive in a matter of seconds; it makes me wonder why we even took the car. And just as Kyle said, it's as if a sudden silent spell has been cast on the whole town.

"Perfect working conditions." Damien comments and flings the shovel over my shoulder. As he walks through the snow, my footsteps shake the silent air around us, a little too loudly for my comfort.

'Lower Crow Hill Cemetery'

It is just outside the town, slightly into the forest. The rusty sign, not being touched for nearly ten years, creaks slightly under the soft wind, begging for some mending. The cemetery isn't much, but it's better than Tarryall Cemetery. There are proper stones, and although small, they all have names carved into them.

My feet stop in front of one of them, and Damien leans into the shovel, its tip digging into the snow and gravel underneath. It's the one stone that doesn't have a name.

"Our last seal." Damien murmurs and shoves the shovel deep down and begins digging. At least we don't have to dig six-feet under like humans. Man, that would be a nightmare, more than this.

The shovel is cast aside and we look down at the white bones of the animal, lying oblivious of its important role of keeping the land pure of demons, and how that is all about to break.

"Well, this is it."

The antichrist takes the glass flask out of my pocket, the deep red liquid glowing under the faint light of the moon and stars. The cork pops off with an easy snap of the thumb, and the liquid dances around the rim of the glass as Damien begins to tilt my wrist.

"Finally, it's over."

And the blood pours onto the bones of the beast, its purified land being blemished with the stain of the devil's blood, as the liquid flourishes the dry soil.

He falls silent for a while, feeling the cold wind hit my face, the silence evaporating into fire around him, the broken seal releasing something inside, something so deep I can't even imagine… That is what I imagine.

"Do you feel any different?" I finally gather the guts to ask him, saving my itching curiosity.

"It's hard to say." He blinks and breathes, travelling his eyes from the flourished bones to the skin of my hands, looking with confusion. "Not really. But I'm not sure if I'm meant to feel anything. I'm not in my body, after all."

"Well, we can arrange that out easily enough."

He turns silent in response, and grips my hand tightly as if to feel his own control.

For the last time.

x

He chucks the shovel into the trunk along with my bag, careful not to hit the lying body, lifeless, but not for long. Damien grabs his own body by the ankles and slides him out of the car, easily enough, he falls out onto my chest.

"Wow dude, careful not to rub that thing off your chest."

"The seal is broken now, Stan." He says wearily, making me feel like an idiot.

Damien rests his body onto the ground, letting the body lean against the tire of the delivery. His body is frozen and seems to be so cold, and it is hard to believe that it will come back to life at all.

My hand lifts up the shirt of the lifeless body, close to his collarbone, until a star drawn with dried blood appears on his chest. Watching it, my breathing seems to skip a turn, but Damien tries to ignore it. He licks my thumb and begins to rub my spit against the dry blood, and slowly, the red comes off, just enough to create a disjoint on the pentacle.

A short sigh leaves my lips, a breath of relief as he looks at the incomplete symbol, and releases his shirt to let the fabric fall back over his skin.

"Is that in then?" I ask the antichrist. Now that the time has come, it seems almost too easy to go back into my body, and too hard to believe it. But I can feel myself getting excited. It's true.

Suddenly, something vibrates inside my pocket and makes Damien jolt, letting him relax when the sound of hard rock music shakes the silent night around us.

"Who is it?" I ask him as he slides my phone out. The devil ignores my question and flips the cell on.

"Kyle?" Damien murmurs in confusion. His name flashes on my phone, the bright blue light glowing in the darkness.

"Do you think he's having some trouble with Kenny?" He asks, probably not used to someone calling him, besides Pip.

"He might've. Kenny's an immature brat sometimes."

"Hello?" Damien asks through the speaker, no alarm in my voice, just expecting some nagging or complaining from a troubled redhead. But all we're greeted by is, not the high-pitched voice, but a repetitive 'Beep', eerie in this darkness.

Confused, Damien takes the phone off my ear and stares at it with round eyes, watching it blankly as it continues to cry out a lonely 'Beep'.

"I wonder…" My voice whispers as Damien hangs up the unsuccessful call.

"Maybe it wasn't that urgent?" I suggest, having experienced similar experiences from Kyle uncountable times. He usually does that. Calls someone half-heartedly then ends it before the person picks up, realising how 'meaningless' his call was.

With a small shrug, Damien slides my phone back into my pocket and goes back to observing his body.

I can tell that his stone-like body is melting back into its soft state, and his ever-so-subtle sign of life colouring his skin. And inside his shirt, his chest rises calmly, and sinks back down, whispering the quiet sound of air breathing in and out of him. His body is truly alive.

"Oh God, do I have to kiss you again?" I groan as he kneels in front of his body, my hand resting on Damien's cheek.

"I don't want to do this as much as you." He says. Again. It makes me smirk.

"Are you ready?" The antichrist asks me one last time.

And God, "Would I ever be…"

He chuckles. Then my hand tilts Damien's face up, the thumb pressing down on his jaw to open up his mouth. And then after one last moment, our mouths connect.

What do I feel? For a second I don't feel anything. But then a second later, I feel smoke, or wind, swelling me up like a balloon. My senses, like an explosion, shoot right through my body, from the tips of my hair to the tingling of my fingers. There's so much to feel, it's overwhelming. And then, just as quickly, I feel myself deflate.

I blink, I see, then I move my hand and stare at it. I notice my lungs moving, air coming in and out of me. I grip my hands, so tightly that the nails dig into my skin.

I feel pain.

I release my hand and grip again.

I smile.

"I see it has worked." A dry voice says and the figure in front of me moves. He is dressed in charcoal black, from head to toe, but his skin is almost shining snow white. His black nails rise into the air as he stretches his back and lets a groan of content out from the top of his throat. He releases his body and relaxes, cracking his neck from side to side.

"Hello Stan." He says. And there are two glowing ruby eyes blazing down on me, a small smile tinting his white lips.

"Hey Damien." I say, and give a smile back.

The antichrist chuckles and drops his pale hand for me to take. I gratefully take it, and he swings me up to my feet with ease. Where he hides that strength in his lanky frame, I would never know.

"So how do you feel, dude? Good to be back in your own body?"

He scratches the back of his neck and glances up at me with a smile. "Good as ever." Then he looks back down and sighs, ever so subtly. "But there's one thing I don't understand..."

"What?"

But he ignores my question and slides into the car.

"We shouldn't keep Kyle waiting. Especially with that little blond."

"Oh yeah!" I cheer, a little too loudly as I slide into the car.

Kyle would be waiting. Kyle has always been waiting. I can't wait to see his face when he sees me! I can't wait for many things…

The car roars to life and Damien slides back onto the dimly lit road of Bailey. The cassette has ended and there is no music, but I'm way too excited to care. I look outside the window with a wide grin, I feel as though my whole body is shaking.

"Hey, check it out." I call automatically when something catches my eye outside. "They have a church. And look, there's a small cemetery at the back." I feel Damien glance out, and then glance back just as quickly without interest. "Why didn't your dad just bury a goat in there, make a small pet cemetery in there or something?"

"Because that cemetery was made after the seal was created. It is too new."

"Oh…"His logical answer barely reaches my brain and I simply continue to stare at the church as we past by.

x

I tumble out of the car before it comes to a halt, and try to sprint up to our motel room with two left feet. My heart is about to burst inside my ribcage from excitement and my mouth is about to split from the wide grin. I'm not yet used to such overwhelming feelings, but I don't care. I couldn't care less right now.

My feet stop in front of the room, and for a very long minute I just stand there and try to get my breath back. It's too loud, my breathing; I have to calm it down so I can hear his voice properly.

I gulp down a chunk of saliva, tense up my whole body from toe to ear, and grip the doorknob. Wait, why the fuck am I so nervous? I shake my head at my ridiculousness and let my body relax. A natural smile rests on my lips and I swing the door open.

"Kyle!"

I practically shout out his name, not caring the time or any of the neighbours. The excitement is driving me blind.

But when I open the door, when I see the scene inside, I freeze. My eyes freeze. My lips freeze. My lungs freeze. I can't react to the quiet sobbing, or the mixture of heavy breaths. That is, until my brain begins to work, begins to comprehend, and my eyes begin to widen in shock.

The light is off, the moonlight behind me being the only source of light. But it is enough to show. To show the cabinets dragged out of their spaces, and books and papers fallen on the floor. To show a shattered beer bottle on the carpet, glass shining off the moonlight. And then finally, to show the two figures on the messed up bed.

Under the moonlight I see, his skin is flushed in deep crimson, and glistening from sweat and slight traces of regretful tears leaking from his eyes. Heavy breaths gasp out of his wet mouth as another attacks his lips, hungrily, insanely. His shirt is pushed up and the button and zipper of his jeans are free, free for hands to caress his skin. Kyle's skin. My Kyle's skin.

They don't even notice me at the door, too preoccupied with their own situation. Kyle, body turned into heavy lead, struggles to resist the blond pushing him deeper into the bed. And the blond, who is he? Kenny, doesn't even seem to care as he continues to strive for what he wants.

All this observation is done in a second. And I instantly regret wasting that second just standing there, waiting for my brain to catch up with the situation. .

"KENNY!" I roar, disgust and rage from my voice shakes the walls as I dive towards the blond. I get him by his hood and swing him back off Kyle mercilessly, making him crash into the floor. But I don't check to see if the bastard is okay. I rush to Kyle, breathing heavily on the bed.

"Kyle! Kyle? Are you okay?" I call to him desperately. Cupping his cheeks and looking into his eyes, wet and hazy, as they slowly focus onto mine.

"…Stan?" He whispers through aggressive pants. The desperateness in his voice is enough to drive me into near insanity. But then there is this smile. A warm, small smile that appears on his lips as he looks into me. It keeps my mind together.

"Stan... You're back-" He manages out.

"Yeah, Kyle. Dude, I'm right here-"

But the second those words leave my lips, I'm sent flying through the air and smash against the opposite wall. A shock of excruciating pain shoots through my whole body as I fall to the floor, my hands digging into shattered glass as I try to save myself from impact.

"How disappointing…" A dark voice says; it's Kenny voice, yet it's coloured with black amusement, confidence, and danger. "We were having so much fun together. Weren't we, Kyle?"

I manage to lift my head, to see Kenny above me looking over at the redhead still panting on his bed.

"Oh well. We can continue once this is over with." He drops his eyes and looks down on me, coldly, but with a dagger of a smile on his thin lips.

But what sends a shiver down my spine, is not the smile, or the coldness of his expression, but his glowing eyes. Glowing, in dark crimson, the colour of rich wine.

His smile grows as he sees the fear and confusion on my face and squats down in front of me, bright, yet dark amusement on his face. But just as instantly, he gets back up onto his feet, grinning sadistically at the empty doorway. At someone at the doorway. At someone with furious fire burning his eyes at the doorway.

"Well, heya Dee. Long time no see." Kenny calls confidently at the demon taking a step into the room, fiery eyes locking in with the blonde's wine-coloured ones. Damien's eyes blaze with rage, but deep down, I wish I couldn't tell, but there's fear there. Deep fear, and regret.

"Asmodeus."

The antichrist states dangerously. It takes me a second to notice that it is a call of a name.

"Kenny?" I ask pathetically at the blond in confusion. He turns around with bitter eyes, a sudden firm frown on his lips.

"Didn't you hear Damien? It is Asmodeus. Or Ashmedai, if you want. Call me Ash." He winks and turns back to Damien. My head spins and I've gone dizzy. I feel like throwing up.

"Anyway," The second demon says, looking back at Damien, licking his lips excitedly. "It's nice to see ya back in your own body Dames. It really is. Especially when-" He pauses to chuckle at himself, like remembering a vulgar joke that he knows is not meant to be laughed at. Slowly, his shoulders stop shaking from laughter, and he looks up, eye glowing. "Especially when the seal hasn't been broken yet."


A.N- Thanks for reading! I'm not going to complain about my writing, not gonna- (bites lip)

I have been waiting to write Asmodeus for so long! So long! Funny story, at first it was going to be Ike he possesses instead of Kenny. The creepy obsessed little brother fallowing his big brother. And it was going to be Kyle possessed by Damien, leading to a more angsty scenario. But then I wanted to write about school so I decided him to possess Stan instead.

But who cares, right?

Will the next chapter be the last? Probably! And then an epilogue.

Please, review?