Hey y'all! Yeah, I finally figured out the break thingie on here! I'm so happy. Heh, I love FF. Anyway, read and enjoy!

(for some reason, my friend says her fav. part is the dog Damien kills in this chapter. I dont know if i should be scared or not. O_o)

Chapter Two

Watcher

The next morning Damien looked at the room. It wasn't really to his taste. Drawing on his power, he flicked a small ball of fire at the bed, watching lazily as it was set aflame. There we go, that was better. He walked out, the crackle of flames getting louder as the heat grew stronger. Soon the entire hotel was blazing, but Damien was already gone.

He went back again to the park, sitting on the same bench as before. He spent the time setting random squirrels on fire, mentally plucking the feathers off of birds, and if opportunity allowed, spontaneously combusting some humans. His favorite was a group of college kids, smoking pot and laughing hysterically as they passed. He set one on fire, watching him run around screaming. The others thought it hilarious and started roaring with laughter as their friend burned to a crisp. Damien thought the entire thing was just too funny. Druggies were fun to mess with. To thank them, he set all of them on fire. Providing entertainment for him, even unto death.

He was chuckling over a dog he had turned inside out, when he heard a familiar voice screaming. Turning his head slowly, he saw Pip running across the park, being chased by three figures who's names he vaguely remembered. Craig, Clyde and Token, he thought. And even though Pip was a good distance away, Damien could clearly see the look of panic on his face. Well, that was interesting. Getting up, he followed quietly.

He managed to find Pip about ten minutes later, mainly because of the fact that he spied the bullies coming out of any alley, laughing. Melding into the shadows, Damien waited for them to pass him. They came within an inch of him, so close he could have leaned out and slit each of their throats. Still hidden in darkness, he walked into the black alley, seeing Pip get up slowly from the ground. His clothes were dirty, his hair was askew, and his hat was gone. His face was also bruised, and his lip bled.

"Well, they certainly fucked you up."

Pip squeaked as Damien spoke, looking up to see him suddenly appear out of the alley's shadows.

"Oh, hello Damien."

"What happened?"

"...they really wanted me to hand over my wallet to them."

"And you said no?"

"I refused with proper British pride, as is dictated."

"Didn't look like proper British pride to me when you were running for your life in the park."

Pip gave an embarrassed laugh, wiping away some blood from his mouth. "Oh, you saw that? Well, I suppose I was a bit frightened at their threats."

Damien raised an eyebrow. "Threats that are all over your face now?"

"...yes, those threats." Pip started to walk out, but stopped after a couple of steps, wincing in pain as he clutched his stomach. "Ow, that tingles a bit."

"A bit?"

"Well, a little more than that, but I'm okay." He looked at Damien. "Hey, do you feel like staying at my house today? My mum's making brownies."

"How the hell do you get beaten up, and still offer the Antichrist a place to stay?" Damien exclaimed. "Are you mentally retarded? Or just plain stupid?"

"Oh, come now, I'm just being a good friend."

"Shut up. How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not your friend!"

"Would you like to come over and spend the night anyway? My mum makes a splendid breakfast of blueberry pancakes and mocha coffee, and her biscuits are wonderful."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain. I'm not staying at your house, now drop it." Damien growled.

Pip looked down sadly. "Okay." He continued his slow way out of the dark alley. Damien followed. "I'm going home now, but I'll see you later."

Damien looked at his shuffling form, still holding his stomach painfully. He rolled his eyes. Damn, this kid was masochistic.

"Pip."

The blonde turned.

"Yes, Damien?"

Damien stepped toward him, laying a hand on Pip's forehead.

"Close your eyes and picture your house."

"Huh?"

"Just do it."

Pip closed his eyes, and Damien focused. A hazy picture of a pretty, two-story, light blue house floated into his mind. He wrapped shadows around them, and they disappeared.

"You can open your eyes now."

Pip's eyes fluttered open, and he gasped as he saw his house in front of them. He looked toward Damien, his eyes wide. Damien shrugged.

"Being the Antichrist has its perks. As long as there's a shadow somewhere, no place is forbidden to me." He glanced toward Pip's forehead. "Uh oh."

"What?" Pip looked up, trying to see whatever it was that Damien saw. He couldn't see it, but Damien could, A small black upside-down cross marked the skin there.

"Nothing. It's just my sign. It'll go away after a couple of minutes."

Damien moved some of Pip's hair to cover it. He'd rather not attract too much attention to himself.

He knocked on the door, then stood back. Pip's mother could be heard inside, making her way to answer the door. Damien nodded toward Pip.

"See ya." Black swirled around once, then he was gone.

That night, in another hotel, Damien found himself wondering about the small blonde boy. Pip annoyed him to no end, and yet he was intrigued. Just why would you put up with all that crap, and still be nice to other people? If anything even remotely harassment-like had been done to Damien, their asses would've Hell-bound immediately. He would have ripped out their intestines, nailed their limbs to a wall, then dragged and thrown their souls personally into a fiery pit of Hell, laughing. But Pip was different. He didn't seem to care about revenge or anything like that. And he still kept that stupid smile on his damned face. His soul was freaking white, for Lucifer's sake! The only white souls he had ever seen were on angels, and they burned to look at. Damien smiled as he found himself wondering what he could do to corrupt such a pure human. Images of pain and torture flashed through his head, each more bloodier than the last. That would be fun to do. Rolling over on the bed, he closed his eyes. The black fingers of dreamless sleep were tugging at him, and he gave into them willingly.

A/N: hey, Damien had a pity moment there. Btw, how do you spell 'blonde'? Does it have an 'e' at the end or not? Nobody can give me a straight answer.

Damien: Shut up and continue writing, stupid.

Me: Don't make me dress you in drag, hooker.

Damien: O_o (backs away slowly)

Me:That's what I thought.