Author Note: Massive thanks go out to Mizuni-no-neko, Hayze-chan, Akatsuki Feathers, Alpha Hydra, KittyBePraised and Bethany C. MacKenzie for the awesome reviews! And to Hypothisos for the PM! They're always much appreciated and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others! Um, I think Christophe's Brit-bashing may stem from issues with Gregory, or possibly issues with the Northern English fanfic author who puts him through all this shit, lol.

I'm actually doing the notes while watching the remake of the Omen, heh heh. The original was one of my favourite films when I was little, but then, I was kind of a weird kid. I can still quote the prophesy, worryingly. It's not too bad actually, as far as remakes go and the old film hasn't aged well, but they changed one of my favourite scenes. I am however, incredibly amused by the menu screen, in which Damien is dressed an awful lot like Pip. I'm rambling – but I guess it explains my Damien-love!

&*&*&*&

I'll possess your body and I'll make you burn. I have the fire, I have the force.

&*&*&*&

Damien stared out of the passenger side window, marvelling at the snowy night. The white fields lit only by the fluorescent lights, snow still falling gently. And it was quiet. So different to what he was used to. Not better in any way, just something almost new, almost forgotten.

He had been in Colorado briefly as a child, one of his fathers little phases where he decided to try some actual parenting and give his child a normal life. It lasted about a week. Damien had been resentful of the change, hated the cold and the sunlight. He couldn't understand why the other children didn't seem to fear or respect him. He'd made only one friend, the skinny British orphan who was as unpopular as he was, a trust he'd casually betrayed – he was the Antichrist, what else did people expect? And just when he seemed to be getting somewhere, he'd been whisked back to his own home. The mortal world baffled him; in Hell, the rules were clear.

There was only one person in the entire pit that could tell him what to do and on this occasion, his father had seen fit to send him after the demon. He wasn't exactly pleased, but it wasn't the worst thing that could happen. He was pretty sure he could take back the demon without much of a problem; slay the human host and ensure it couldn't jump to anyone else. Once that was done, the demon had no choice but to go to the afterlife, along with the soul of the host, to face banishment back to Hell.

Christophe drove the car surely through the snow-covered roads, not speaking, occasionally smoking. In the back seat, Kenny slouched with his legs up, safety belt ignored. Damien appreciated the lack of casual, idiotic chatter. Neither man seemed much up to conversation and Damien wondered if they had stoic natures, or if it was his own presence that made conversation difficult. Other times he had been to the mortal realm, he hadn't often advertised who he was, although most people sensed his nature on some level. Only in South Park as a child had he boasted of his origins in an attempt to impress and intimidate, and it had backfired.

"You haven't actually told us Damien," said Kenny suddenly. "What exactly are we chasing?"

Damien snorted. "One of the lesser demons managed to find a way out of Hell. My father believes it must have followed your trail the last time you left, usually your tracks are covered from the demons but someone fucked up this time. And they're suffering for it."

"I didn't know I left a trail," said Kenny.

"There's plenty you don't know about reanimating," replied Damien, smirking, knowing how much that fact rankled with the other boy. "This demon was probably biding his time, waiting for the right moment, then followed."

"I haven't died in about a week and a half," said Kenny. "Why now?"

"I didn't ask," said Damien. "It arrived in South Park, then presumably went in search of the ideal host."

"And it chose Pip," murmured Kenny.

Damien shrugged. "Why not? He's young, healthy, able-bodied. Perfect really. It didn't need much more than that."

"It," said Kenny thoughtfully. "It said I should call it Asmodeus"

"Huh," snorted Damien. "It wishes."

Christophe looked over at Damien. "Wait, isn't Asmodeus ze representative of some sin?"

"You know your literature."

"Non, my muzzer is ah, versed on ze subject."

"Oh, I see," said Damien, musing that he saw any number of souls in Hell like Christophe's – those sick of being force-fed images of damnation who eventually lost their fear of it. "In classic literature, all the deadly sins were given a representative demon. Asmodeus embodied lust."

"Lust?" Kenny laughed, but there was no humour in it. "I don't think Pip's even got a dick."

"Then this will all be new to him," said Damien callously. "Anyway, lust doesn't have to be about sex. It's more like greed, only greed is about having actual things, like money, whereas lust is about the intangible, like power."

"Or sex."

"Or sex," conceded Damien. "I don't think he'll be going on a fucking spree right now though. And you're forgetting, Asmodeus is just a convenient name for it. It's not really who it says it is. It doesn't have a name."

Kenny leant forward. "So, was your dad one of these sin demons?"

"Of course. Wrath."

"Figures."

"I don't understand why zis demon 'as acted like it 'as," said Christophe. "Should it not be 'iding? It 'as killed publicly, so does it not fear capture by 'uman authorities?"

"It doesn't care," said Damien blackly. "They can only capture Pip. They can't contain it."

"You will 'ave to explain zat to me."

"The demon can't operate without a host. That's Pip. Without a host, it's nothing but a disembodied spirit, it can't do any damage without a form to call its own. But it isn't bound to a single host. It can leap from one person to another through eye contact."

"Oh, that's just great." Kenny slumped back in his seat in disgust. "So even when we find Pip, he might not even be possessed any more! How will we know if we got the demon?"

"I'll know," said Damien. "I can see demons for what they are, no matter what form they're in."

"Wait, I made eye contact with it. Why didn't it possess me?"

"It didn't need to right then. It served no purpose. And you're not a good bet anyway, it knew about your habit of dying unexpectedly from your stints in Hell and through what it would be able to get from Pip's mind and the last thing it wants is to be caught up with your soul leaving your body. I'm not even sure that it could have possessed you then if it wanted to. It said it was too soon. It's been disembodied for a long time, it needs to gather strength before it can jump from one host to another without strain."

"And now?"

"The longer it has a host, the more it learns how to deal with the bodies limitations. I'd say it's ready and able to jump."

"Leaving Pip to take the fall for what it's done while it possessed him." Kenny sighed.

"If we catch up to it quickly enough, then he won't have to."

"Because you're going to kill him."

"Yup." Damien looked over his shoulder and into Kenny's outraged eyes. "It has to be done and you know it. Anyway, what's Pip got to look forward to now? He'll be caught, put in jail for the rest of his life, might even get the chair. Dead people, remember?"

"Speaking of which, it is nearly ze hour," interrupted Christophe. "Maybe we should see if zere is anything on ze radio news."

Damien nodded, flicking on the radio and raising the volume. The advertisements were ending, followed by the stations ridiculously irritating jingle, a plea to remain listening, a weather update, the jingle again. The relentless cheeriness set Kenny's teeth on edge.

"Here's the round-up of all the latest news stories from the Park County Area," announced a perky sounding woman. "Our top story; an incident at Park County High School has left at least one student dead after what appears to have been a fight. The dead student has yet to be named, but was thought to be in his final year. Police are seeking witnesses and anyone who may have information. More on this story as we get it. In other news, a South Park man has been arrested after-"

Damien turned the radio off. "Not much."

"But we know someone's dead." Kenny considered the list of possibilities and sighed. "Just not who."

"Think about it," said Damien. "Most likely, it was someone who chose the wrong day to piss Pip off. Who had it in for him?"

Kenny laughed. "You're joking, right? No one. Everyone. Pip practically had victim written across his head. Anyone looking for a target could let loose on him."

"What did he do about it?"

"Nothing. He never got anyone else involved and he never fought back. He wouldn't even blame them, just picked up his teeth and carried on. It was the same as in third grade, only there were more of them and they got more creative."

Damien recalled the kid from third grade, far too nice for his own good and the target of everyone's casual cruelties. If he had been capable, he might have felt some pity. "Is there anything else we know about him?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It's a demon," explained Damien impatiently. "It likes to fuck with peoples minds as well as their bodies. It knows all about Pip now and it might go out of its way to screw up his life, or even the score on his behalf. And it's relying on Pip for its knowledge of the area. The more we know about him, the better we can anticipate its next move."

Kenny shrugged. "You're out of luck. I don't know Pip at all, hardly."

"Bullshit. You know something about everyone."

"Not this time. I don't know where he goes outside of school, who he hangs out with, nothing. I never see him anywhere, I don't talk to him in school. Once he leaves, he could turn into a pumpkin until morning classes for all I know."

"I thought you were supposed to be some help," snapped Damien.

"Hey, I'm here aren't I?" Kenny folded his arms, glaring. "What do we know about the demon? Can we like, drive it away with holy water or something?"

"The demon's bound by the limits of the host," Damien informed him. "If a bullet can kill the host, then the demon dies with them, unless it finds another host prior to the soul leaving the body. And it can't do things that the host is physically incapable of. Like, if it possessed a dog, it couldn't talk like a human. It can drive the host to its limits if it wants, but it can't force them beyond that – if the host needs food or sleep, then the demon has to let them have that or face the consequences. It'll probably jump hosts rather than stop though. And yes, there are certain things that hurt the host when they're possessed because of the demon, crucifixes, holy water, etcetera, but it'd probably just jump hosts again. It damages the person, not the demon."

Christophe took one hand off the wheel and picked the tracker off the dashboard. "Check zis. Ze car 'as stopped moving."

Damien snatched it. "Good. Where is he?"

"Not far from 'ere. We may be able to catch up with 'im before ze car starts moving again."

"Hopefully before the demon jumps again," added Kenny. "By the way, once it does jump, what happens to the last host?"

"Usually?" Damien looked distracted, too busy watching out of the window for any sign of his prey. "The host either gets put in a nut house for saying he was possessed by demons when he did whatever he did, or he kinda blocks it out and insists he didn't do anything, or he forgets about the demon and thinks he did it all himself. Human minds are hilarious."

"I'm glad it amuses you," said Kenny sarcastically. "I mean, Pip'll be able to remember what happened while he wasn't in control?"

"Yeah, probably, unless he represses it," replied Damien. "Some of them do. And some of them just keep on going."

"Huh?"

"Even once the demon's left them, they keep right on killing and stealing and maiming. Usually the ones who got a measure of revenge from the demons actions." Damien turned and gave Kenny a grin filled with malice. "Something to think about."

"You think Pip's going to go on a homicidal rampage?"

"I dunno. Nah. He's more likely to go the other way, insanity or catatonia. That happens too."

Kenny looked skyward. "Why me?"

"Because God 'ates us," said Christophe conversationally. "Zere is a service station up ahead. I think 'e 'as stopped zere."

"And not to pay for gas," added Damien. "I hope you two have weapons."

Christophe didn't deem this worthy of a reply, but Kenny sighed. "I woke up in a bodybag. I didn't see anything in the back of the ambulance that could be used as a weapon!"

"Zen you didn't look very 'ard," said Christophe. "You may 'ave one of my guns. I assume you know 'ow to shoot?"

"Duh. I go to public school."

"We are 'ere." Christophe pulled into the service station and shut off the engine, reaching into his belt and pulling out a gun, handing it over to Kenny. "Take care of 'er."

"Her? What, does she have a name too?"

"Mathilde," replied Christophe, straight-faced so that the other two couldn't be sure if he was joking or not. "Over zere. Ze car I saw your target take."

Damien and Kenny glanced over to see a dusty red saloon with a severe dent in the passenger side door parked haphazardly outside the service station. From their position, they couldn't see within the payment area, but there were no other cars on the forecourt.

"Quiet enough," commented Kenny.

"And it wouldn't matter if it wasn't," added Damien. "We take it down, now."

As they spoke, the automatic doors to the shop slid open and Pip walked out into the snow. There was a paper grocery bag under his arm, contents making the sides bulge. His walk was casual and confident, as if there was nothing more on his mind than getting home. That implication was belied by the smattering of blood across the leg of his jeans. He paused for a moment and examined his free hand, wiping it on his shirt and leaving a vague red smear.

"Looks like he got another one in there," said Damien. "Kenny, you distract him. Mole, you and me are gonna take him out. For crying out loud, avoid eye contact and don't get too close."

"Why do I gotta be the distraction?"

"You've gotta be some use." Damien opened the car door and got out, leaving it open. Christophe climbed out of the other side, also leaving the door open in case the sound of it closing was noticed. Pip didn't look in their direction and the pair took cover out of sight.

Kenny sighed for about the hundredth time since embarking on the trek and got out of the car, slamming the door deliberately hard to draw attention to himself.

Pip glanced over to him, looking more inquisitive than worried. Kenny had the gun in his hand, but he kept it pointed at the ground. Let the others worry about the actual kill, a mercenary or the Antichrist could handle taking down a demon. He was just a guy who'd been looking for a place to shoot up and landed in a bad situation.

"It's over Pip," he called, advancing slowly. "Half the cops in the county are after you."

Pip glanced from side to side and gave Kenny a slightly puzzled smile. If he didn't know better, Kenny would have sworn it was genuine. "Then where are they?"

"I got a head start on them," replied Kenny, hoping the other two had managed to avoid being seen.

Pip's eyes narrowed and he dropped the bag unceremoniously on the tarmac, spilling caffeine drinks and chocolate across the tarmac. Kenny decided that after millennia spent in Hell, that demon had one fuck of a bad craving for sugar.

"You're not alone," said Pip calmly.

"Good guess."

"Who's with you? A minion of Hell. I can feel it."

Damn, thought Damien irritably. He hadn't thought that the demon would be able to sense him, but obviously it could. He was going to have to show himself and hope the Mole had better luck.

"Don't call me a minion," he said coldly, emerging from behind the car and facing the demon.

Pip – Asmodeus – threw back his head and laughed. "The Antichrist! The son of Satan himself. I'm flattered. Does daddy finally deem you ready for your first retrieval?"

Damien snarled, taking a step forward. He could see what Kenny and the Mole could see – a young blonde man chuckling good naturedly to himself – but that image was overlaid with the shadow of the demon, visible to him although no one else, obscuring the mortal. There was no way he was taking that from some lesser demon...

And then he realised that although he had stopped growling, there was still a snarl coming from somewhere behind him.

Hearing a startled curse in French from the other side of the car, he turned to see the Mole diving out of the way just in time. A pick up truck ploughed into the back of Damien's car, shunting it several feet forward. Kenny took several startled steps backward, tripping over one of the gas pumps and landing heavily on his ass.

The pick up came to a stop, reversing away from Damien's car and stopping a foot or so away from it. A heavyset man climbed from the drivers seat, hunting rifle in hand.

"Hold it right there!" he yelled, swinging the rifle in a wide arc. Damien wasn't worried – it didn't look like the guy was serious about shooting and he could only have got one of them before being taken down – but nor was he entirely sure what the situation was.

"Are you hurt son?" continued the newcomer and Damien realised it was some good Samaritan, misreading the situation as three armed men threatening some kid. Just great.

"I – I'm unharmed!" replied Pip shakily, doing such a good impression of shock that Damien was reluctantly impressed. But now he knew what the situation was, he wasn't standing around and waiting for whatever came next.

He started forward, eyes radiating crimson light. "Look what you did to my car, shit head!"

"Stay back!" The man trained the rifle on Damien, saw the glowing eyes and paused. "Shit, what the hell kinda drugs you on boy?"

A sound in the distance made all of them glance toward the road; a siren. After a second, it was joined by another. There was a longish stretch of asphalt leading toward the garage and there were no vehicles in sight, but clearly it was only a matter of time.

From the corner of his eye, Damien saw the Mole moving rapidly, taking aim with his gun and squeezing off a shot. He could understand the French boys reluctance – if he hit a gas pump, they'd be fricassee – but wished he'd shown a little less caution earlier. They could have had this over with by now.

Pip moved faster than anyone had anticipated, a split-second before the Mole fired, lunging at the man. The bullet missed the back of his shirt by a fraction of an inch and then he was face to face with the newcomer, who looked back at him, startled.

"Ah, shit!" bellowed Damien, raising a hand and producing a fireball in his palm, seeing the tell-tale sparks fly between the man and the boy as the demon jumped.

"NO!" Kenny raced over to Damien and grabbed his wrist, trying to force it back to his side before he could hurl the fireball and ignite the entire gas station. "You'll kill us!"

Damien shook him off, but extinguished the fireball. He didn't care if he caught the mortals in the blast, even the ones who had helped him, but he wasn't sure what the consequences would be on his own body. Would he live through it unscathed or be incinerated and go back to Hell? And fire was chancy, what if it didn't kill the mortal and the demon remained within him? Going back to Hell empty handed would be too embarrassing. No, he'd wait – for now.

Pip's previously tense body suddenly slumped, his knees giving way as the demon left him. He clutched weakly at the man's shirt, then lost his grip and sank to his knees, burying his head in his hands, hair covering his face. Before Damien's eyes, the inky black stain that had overlaid him seemed to dissipate.

The heavyset man stiffened as Pip weakened, as if on the receiving end of an electric shock. His eyes went wide and he took a step back, mouth working soundlessly.

Then he started to scream.

The sound should have been beyond human abilities, but the sound was definitely coming from the man. Kenny cringed, staring at the scene. "What the fuck -"

"Crucifix," replied Damien.

The man scrabbled at his shirt, trails of smoke clearly rising from within. A second later, he yanked at a thin chain around his neck, snapping it and hurling it as far away as possible, still shrieking. A burning smell drifted toward the watchers and they could see the thin wisps still rising from his chest and the hand which had removed it.

A second later, the first cop car steamed into view, some distance behind them but gaining fast.

"Fuck!" Kenny grabbed Damien's arm. "We have to go!"

The demon had clearly had the same idea, because it bolted for the pick up truck. The Mole let off another shot, which shattered the trucks window but failed to hit the man and the vehicle was in motion before the door was even closed.

The Mole ran for Damien's car, jumping into the drivers seat. "Move it beetches!"

Kenny headed to the car too and Damien was about to follow suit when he paused. Pip was still kneeling on the forecourt, face hidden. They had lost Asmodeus for the moment, but maybe Pip had learned something from the demon. It was a long shot, but right now it was the only one they had.

Damien strode over to the boy and gripped his shoulder painfully. "You're coming with me."

Pip didn't move, didn't even acknowledge Damien, in spite of the fierce hold. Knowing they were about out of time, Damien shook him roughly. "I said COME WITH ME."

This time, Pip looked up and Damien blinked. Pip's eyes were wide and, to his surprise, totally without tears. But they were also panicked, showing clearly that Pip was at the edge of his sanity.

The Mole drove up beside them, yelling out of the window. "Move or I will leave you 'ere!"

"Come on." Damien grabbed Pip's arm and dragged him to his feet. Kenny opened the rear door of the car and Damien shoved Pip inside, getting into the passenger side. Christophe hit the gas and the car burned rubber, screeching forward, the back tyres raising clouds of dust and smoke. Casually, Damien lowered his window and as soon as they were clear of the forecourt, created a fireball and tossed it behind them. Immediately, the small puddles of gas on the forecourt caught light.

"Nice distraction," said Christophe grudgingly.

"Hmm? Oh, I didn't do it as a distraction," said Damien. Behind them, the first of the gas pumps exploded, sending the cops that had just arrived on the scene running for cover. "I'm just fucking annoyed."

A second explosion shook the surrounding area, a mushroom of flame spiralling into the air and debris raining around them. Kenny knelt on the back-seat, staring through the rear view window. "They're really gonna be after us now."

The car took a corner at high speed, blocking the view of the burning garage from view. Kenny frowned – the entire thing had been a pyromaniacs dream – and sat back in the seat, glancing over at Pip as he did so. The British boy didn't seem to have noticed the explosions at all, merely sat trembling, staring straight ahead unblinking, eyes unfocused.

Fuck thought Kenny, remembering Damien's mentions of insanity and catatonia. He touched Pip's arm lightly and Pip jerked away from him, still not turning his head.

"Pip?" Kenny's voice was gentle, trying to coax some reaction from the boy, but not quite knowing what to say. Are you alright seemed fucking stupid and hey, that was some cool blast huh seemed frivolous.

"We're gonna help you Pip," he finally settled for. Pip still gave no indication of having either heard or understood. Kenny glanced helplessly at Damien, who had turned slightly in his seat to see what was happening. "There's something we can do, right?"

Damien narrowed his eyes and stared at the boy. Back at the gas station, Pip had definitely focused on him, although he seemed off now. His skin was filthy, the blood from his hands having been transferred onto his face in smears, but seemed unmarked in any other way. The trembling was probably shock, Damien decided.

Thinking back to third grade, Damien remembered Pip as a small, cheerful kid with a lot of problems that weren't his doing, his hair too long for the days standards, his clothes too neat and old-fashioned for any child. He could see the ghost of that kid in Pip's features, but time had worked some changes; Pip was tallish but thinner, his features more clearly defined. He seemed more delicate and less there than Damien remembered, but of course, the last could be attributed to his recent experiences.

Pip's eyes refocused and met Damien's.

Damien looked back at him, wondering if his own red orbs were what Pip needed right then. He felt slightly unnerved. He was familiar with the aftermath of demonic possession and usually there was some kind of denial, but all he saw in Pip was bright awareness and acceptance beneath a thin layer of bewilderment that probably came from the situation he was in now rather than the one he had been in previously.

Behind them, more sirens sounded and the Mole cursed in French, trying to coax still more speed from the car. Damien tore his gaze away from Pip, checking out the wing mirror and seeing flashing lights turn the corner behind them.

"Shit!" yelled Kenny, looking out of the rear window. "Cops on our tail!"

"What – who are they chasing?" asked Pip shakily.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Let me think. Oh, I know! Anyone who killed four people in the last twenty-four hours, raise their hands!"

Still shaking, Pip raised his hand. A moment later, Damien followed suit. The Mole took one hand off the wheel to join in.

Shaking his head, Kenny slumped into his seat. "That's it. I'm claiming hostage status."

"They're not gonna catch us," said Damien, sounding bored. "Just call me a demonic chop shop. They'll never recognise us. I cloaked the car."

"We got us a satanic mechanic," sang Kenny sardonically.

"Convenient," remarked the Mole, not letting up on the gas anyway. "Remind me to give you a call ze next time I 'ave a difficult job."

The police car sped up, overtaking them. Christophe finally relaxed enough to ease off the gas a little. "We lost the cops."

"Big deal," snarled Damien. "We lost the demon too. And we've got no way of finding him again. By now, he could be anywhere."

Kenny scowled. "Can't you sense it, like you did when it was in Pip?"

"Once we're a few hundred metres from it, I can only get the general direction."

"You know its distance?"

Damien frowned. "Kinda. I can tell when we're getting close."

"Then maybe that's all we need," said Kenny.

"It better be all we need," snapped Damien. "Because it's all we've fucking got. I sure as shit won't hold back killing that asshole redneck. He drove into my car. He has to die."

"Can-" Pip's voice was hesitant. "Can someone tell me what's going on?"

"We need to stop somewhere and work out what we're gonna do next," said Kenny. "And explain things to Pip. Also, I'm kinda hungry."

Damien turned and glared at him. "This isn't a fucking road trip!"

"I know that," Kenny shot back. "But three of the people in this car are mortal and need to eat every so often. It sure as shit beats driving around aimlessly. If it makes you happy, we'll even eat the evillest food we can find."

"Ha fucking ha."

Christophe manoeuvred the car onto a stretch of road that was slightly busier than he one they had been on. "If it is evil food you want, zen you are in luck. Zere is a drive-thru McDonald's up ahead."

"Damien's paying!" announced Kenny. "Blowing things up always makes me super-hungry."

Growling, Damien slumped into his seat, wishing Satan had chosen someone else to grab the damn demon.