Chapter 3: Nightmare

Darkness into Light.

He was falling. He couldn't see anything but dizzying brightness, couldn't speak, couldn't hear anything above the rush of air. The sun was above him, engulfing his vision, burning his body in light. It was still pulsing, throbbing in time with his heart and his head, and he tried to go back, go back to nothingness, but then there came a voice.

You who are about to enter my domain, Show me your soul.

I-I'm hearing the voice of the sun. The sun's talking to me. I've finally gone insane.

His mind and body was pulsing, burning, and images began to flash before him, images from the sea of his soul that he'd forever wanted to forgot.

A small boy. A young man. A woman. Another woman. A rope. A kiss. Feelings of horror, feelings of despair, feelings of happiness, feelings of love.

"No . .. no. .. " he whimpered.

I have no need of such useless memories. Show me more.

More images, clearer now, of events that had occurred in his life, memories good and bad, emotions he'd tried to forget. . . emotions of anger and of happiness and of loneliness and of things he'd tried to do, but there was nothing of his own desires, only the desires of other people and his attempts to make them happy, but they didn't always become happy. He did what he was told, tried to be a good boy, tried to do the right thing, but it was never for himself. It was always for others, whether for God or for his teacher or for his friends.

. . . This cannot be.

"No, no, no," he whimpered again. "Get. . . get out of my head!"

You have nothing in your heart. Not even a hint of reason.

"Help me," he whispered. "Isamu. . . Chiaki . . . Ms . . .Ms Takao . . ." he needed them, needed them to tell him what to do. He was powerless on his own.

For one who is destined to shape the world, this is unacceptable.

He fell faster, away from the sun, away from the light, into a world of darkness and pain.

GO! Explore this world. Find yourself. . . .

Light into Darkness.

"Wake up, young man. . ."

His eyes snapped open, hammered open. What...what is...What is this?

It was dark again, dark everywhere, but he could see them clearly - a small boy with long blond hair, and an old woman with a veil that almost completely covered her face. It didn't make sense – it was so dark that he couldn't even see his hands, but he could make out every detail on the strange couple before him.

Am I dead?

The boy whispered something into the old woman's ear. Naoki had no clue what he was saying, but from the way the woman's eyes glittered, he began to worry.

"Young man," she said. "It pleases me to inform you that my master has chosen to give you a gift."

"A. . . .a gift?" Naoki croaked out the words. His mouth was dry, like he'd swallowed fire. Everything hurt.

"Yes. A very rare gift. Poor human, he has taken quite a liking to you and is willing to help you live."

"Live . . . How. . . how can a gift help. . . ?"

"Please do not move. . . this is going to be a trifle unpleasant."

She came towards him, held him down, and Naoki was stunned.

I'm being held immobile by a woman damn near 80 years old.

Either her strength or her weight was incredible – he couldn't tell which, but whatever it was it immobilised him completely. But it didn't prevent him moving his mouth, and it didn't prevent him from seeing the little boy walk over, stand over him.. .

Then hold out a long, centipede like insect, with the biggest snappy things on its head he had ever seen.

"Wha. . . what's that?"

"Do not worry. . .the pain will be over soon," the old woman told him soothingly. It didn't work.

"WHAT?" Naoki was very concerned now.

"Please understand. . . the world you are about to enter now will be harsh, extremely harsh. It is vital that you receive this gift. You will not be able to survive this new world as you are now."

"What do you mean. . . as I am now. . ."

"You cannot survive in this world as a human, so we are going to change you into a demon. Now, just stand still for a little bit, please."

It took several precious seconds for that information to sink in, for his mind to figure out what the old hag had just said to him.

This will change you into a demon.

CHANGE YOU.

INTO

A DEMON.

. . .

No. . .

Fuck no . . ..

"FUCK HELL NO!"

He swore. Naoki was not a boy who swore that often – only evil people did that – but the situation couldn't really be described any other way. He did not want to be a demon! He went berserk - he screeched, he thrashed, he scratched, he bit, he kicked, he flailed, his strength magnified a million fold as he tried to escape. everything in his body fighting against the woman, his mind, body and soul rebelling about what he'd just heard. One hand managed to snake free from the woman's grasp.

, "Nooooo, NOO NO NO NO NO NOOOO!" he repeated it over and over again, as though the word itself would be able to get him out of this situation, a magic key to make everything go away.. "No, no, no, no, no, no.. . I wont' let you change me into a – a – NO!" He had a crucifix, a little cross that he always wore around his neck and he held it out now, held it at the Old Hag. "By – by the power of god, I banish you, demon!"

The blonde haired boy, who'd been silent all this time, finally made a noise. A snort, a little cough of amusement, as he leant down and grabbed the Crucifix, took it off Naoki's neck, admired the pretty little ornament. . .

Then snapped it in half and threw the pieces away. Naoki gasped in disbelief.

This. . . this isn't happening! I'm asleep. This isn't really happening, it's just a nightmare. A really, really vivid nightmare, but still just a nightmare.

But even in his nightmares, Naoki didn't want to become a demon. He continued to fight them, but this only made the Old Hag hold him down tighter, immobilising his arms this time, so that all he could do was attack them with his voice, dropping bombs of profanity that would have likely resulted with serious beatings back with his current foster parents.

"You . . . you mother fuckers! I HATE YOU!"

When that didn't work, he tried pleading instead, pleading for his life, for his humanity. "Please. . . please no, please. .. I don't want to be a demon . . .PLEASE!"

"Don't move," the old woman told him, ignoring his pleas. Naoki didn't listen, continued to thrash around. So far, anger, pleading and wailing hadn't worked. He needed to think of something else, and quick.

But her strength was overwhelming – he couldn't move. All he could do was watch as the awful cintepedy thing flailed in the air, held by the boy in one hand, it's gigantic sharp bits snapping in anticipation. . .

What on earth are they going to do with that thing?

"ISAMU! CHIAKI! YUKO! HELP ME! PLEASE!" He screamed out their names, not even realizing that in his panic he had spoken Ms. Takao's first name by mistake. "Please.. . ." He whispered. "Please help me. . . somebody. . . anybody. . . "

"We are," the old woman told him.

Then the boy had let the centipedey thing go and it was falling towards him, cart wheeling through the air as though in slow motion, doing two full rotations as it came closer and closer and closer . . . and landed on his face. It was cold, clammy, felt like an iceblock with one hundred legs, and it was scuttling, across his nose, sniffing (did it even have a nose? Naoki is pretty sure that centipedes don't), trying to seek out something but he didn't know what. It wasn't very big, had to be only ten centimetres at the longest, but it's gigantic snapping things (mandibles?) were very large and they were coming up to his right eye, so he was getting a very good look at how sharp they -

"RRAAAAAAAAAAAGHH!"

Then it was biting him, biting into his eye, its immense snapping things closing and ripping great chunks out of it and he screamed, screamed blue freaking murder because THE GAINT CENTIPEDE WAS DIGGING INTO HIS EYE. His head flew back and thudded against whatever it was behind him and he screamed, screamed until he was running low on oxygen and his scream turned into a high pitched squealing.

I'm... I'm screaming...like a girl… said a tiny part of his mind that was strangely rational enough to worry about such trivial things.

He was crying now, crying with his good eye, tears streaming down his face, and his tears ran and his nose ran. He tried to raise his hands, tried to claw at his eye, but his hands were pinned out and to his sides, and he couldn't move them so he tried to shake his head back and forth but that didn't work either. He could bang his head backwards so he tried that, over and over again, to little effect other than getting quite the headache. And he kept screaming, as he felt the centipede burrow further until it had burrowed THROUGH the eye, and he couldn't see through it anymore, he couldn't see anything anymore, and he screamed with renewed vigour at the horrible, unbelievable, unspeakable, unforgettable, excruciating agony.

There was pain in his mouth, just as there was pain everywhere else, and dimly the rational part of his mind informed him that he had bitten his tongue, bitten it clean in half in his agony, so now he was mute as well as blind.

Great, just great.

He was still convulsing, still shaking, his nails digging into whatever they could, and he had pissed himself, every sphincter he possessed opening wide in horror, but he was too preoccupied to notice. He couldn't breathe. He was dying. Now the pain was spreading, down his face and through his arms, and his mouth screeched incoherently and he tried to will himself to die, to fall asleep, to end this, but it wouldn't and it didn't happen. He was awake, and aware. God, was he ever aware!

Mother!

It was a word he had not thought of in a long time, but he thought of it now, used it as a mantra in an attempt to distance himself from the pain. Mother, Mother, mother, mother, mother, mother...

His strength was flowing out of him. His soul was flowing out of him. Everything was flowing out of him. It was all going away now, with each increasingly desperate gasp of air that rattled through his chest. He was dying. And he was looking forward to it, because it would be an end, a finality, and everything would stop.

He didn't know at what point it was that he finally lost consciousness. Only that he did and he was gone from this world, just as this world was gone from him. He had flowed out of his body, leaving behind an empty shell that twitched and writhed and gurgled. . .

. . . and transformed.

After it was all over, the two figures stared down at him, their expressions unreadable.

"Looks like a success," The old hag said to the young boy, who nodded. "I never doubted you, young Master – it's clear that you can see something in him that others cannot. Let's take him back to the hospital. It is only fitting that he recovers in a medical facility, after all."

The boy looked up at the old hag, whispered something into her ear.

"Yes - I agree. There is much work to be done. We must move quickly, now, or everything will be delayed."

She looked down at the unconscious youth, knowing that he couldn't hear her, that he was trapped in his nightmares.

"Sleep well, little Hito-Shura. My master will always be watching you, so don't disappoint him. . . ."

It would be a long time before he woke up again, but that was okay. In this new existence, he would have all the rest of eternity.

His eyes opened, and he wasn't sure at first what had woke him up, but he was awake now and he felt ill. For several seconds he simply lay there, trying to go back to sleep. There was nothing. No sound, no reason for him to be awake, but he was. He couldn't tell how late it was, but he presumed it to be really late, as it was dark.

Mother wouldn't want me to be awake. It's past my bedtime.

So he tried to fall asleep, but he couldn't – he was feeling this strange, unbelievable sense of dread, that made him feel like he had to get up, make sure everything was alright. Because somehow, some strange sixth sense, had told him that something was very wrong.

A sound!

There was a great crash, and suddenly a whooshing of wind, and he was up, out of bed, stumbling around in the dark, searching for his bedroom light.

"Mother?" He asked the darkness. It didn't answer.

He was scared now – there had been a crash, a terrible noise, and his imagination began to work overtime.

It's a demon. It's a terrible monster that comes to take naughty boys like me away.

His mother had told him about them, told him how he must always be a good boy and read his bible before going to bed, or the demons would get him, but he hadn't that time – he'd been too tired and he thought it was just a book and nobody would notice and even if somebody did they wouldn't be too angry, but obviously someone was and he trembled.

I'm scared.

He had to go to mother's room. She'd be able to fight off the demon. She'd tell the demon that her son was a good boy, and that he was protected by God, and anybody who was protected by God couldn't be touched by a demon, because demons were bad and God was good.

Good always triumphs over evil, after all.

He summoned his courage, found the bedroom light, switched it on. For several seconds his eyes were blinded, then they slowly adjusted to the glare, but he was so afraid. He called out to mother several more times, but she wouldn't come to him and he was too scared to go to her by himself.

I'm not by myself. God's with me.

But he couldn't see God and so he was still scared, but then he saw Teddy face planted on the floor. It must have fallen out of his grasp and landed on the floor during the night. He was calmer now – he could do anything with God and Teddy by his side, so he picked Teddy up off the ground and thus suitably armed, stepped outside his door into battle.

Mother wasn't in her bedroom next door to him on the ground floor. He knew she'd been there when he went to bed, because he heard her crying. It was strange to hear a grown up crying and he'd wondered if she'd been teased and called a stupid head. That was usually the reason why he cried and he wondered who had been mean to her and if their grown ups had punished them. He also wondered if she was a sooky la. Whenever HE cried, he was being a sooky la, according to the other children. He didn't know what a sooky la was but he didn't like being called one and he doubted his mother would either. She had been crying for several days now and he didn't know why. She'd kept crying even when he offered her Teddy.

He wished he had a father – the other kids all had one and apparently one of the uses a father had was to stop mother crying and make her feel better. At first, he hadn't know what a father was. He had toy cars and Teddy, but no father, so he'd asked the other children what it was and what it was for. They'd told him so much about fathers and all the good things they could do that he'd sniffled and wanted one for his own, so he asked them how they got one. They said that their mothers would go hunting in the woods and set traps using something called beer as the bait. The fathers would go in, drink the beer and the mothers would go and trap them by sticking a magical ring around their fingers. This ring meant that the fathers would do everything the mothers said or she would the power of Mother-In-Law to punish them. He didn't know who that was. He briefly wondered if she was stronger than God.

Where is mother? Was she upstairs? Why would she be upstairs?

"Mother?" he asked. "Mother, are you crying? Do you want to hold Teddy again?"

No answer. He continued to explore, came to the entrance room of the house where the stairs were. If she was upstairs, he'd have to go upstairs, but he needed to find the light. The stairs had a rail, a rail that extended up the side and all along the top to stop you falling over the edge because it was very high, but mother had told him not to climb stairs in the dark or bad things could happen and he could get hurt. So he searched for the light, found it, turned it on.

Click.

. . !

For a few seconds he stared, not comprehending what he was seeing. It was mother, on the wrong side of the rail, up above him, going back and forth as though she were on a swing, but she didn't have the swing seat underneath her and he was absolutely positive that there hadn't been a swing here before because having a swing in your house would be absolutely awesome.

Then he realized that she was in her nightdress and not wearing any panties and that he was staring up at her and that he was being very naughty, because only terrible people stared at women's bits and God didn't like those sort of people. So he averted his eyes.

"Oh, sorry mother. . . I didn't mean to look. . . "

She was angry with him. So angry that she wasn't responding. She only did that when she was either really angry or really upset and either way it wouldn't be a good thing. But she was in a really weird place and she was doing a bad thing. She'd told HIM not to climb over the rail because it was dangerous, but now she had climbed over the rail herself and she was swinging underneath it, something he had never thought of doing but now sort of wished he had because it looked like fun, but that didn't matter because it was wrong.

"Mother? Are you stuck?" She looked stuck. She was wearing his skipping rope around her neck and it looked very uncomfortable. He wondered why she was doing that and then wondered if maybe she didn't want to do that. Maybe she'd been trying to make him a swing, but something bad happened and now she was stuck and she needed his help.

"I'll go help you, mother." He climbed up the stairs, holding the rail in one hand and Teddy in the other, When he arrived at where the skipping rope was tied, he realized that she was in a really tricky spot indeed. She was held up in the air only by the rope, and she was to far below it to get back up by herself, and he wasn't strong enough to pull her up.

She couldn't go up. He didn't think she enjoyed being stuck there – that rope looked really uncomfortable around her neck. But maybe he could –

"I think I can cut the rope, mother . . . do you want me to do that?"

She wasn't answering him. He must have done something very awful for her to be this angry at him. He had better go help her right away. He ran off to the kitchen and brought back some scissors, but they didn't work, so he ran off to the kitchen again and got his personal knife that he used to eat with. That didn't work either, so he went back and looked at the grown up knife that mother always used – it was silver and much stronger than his little knife. So he tried that, but it didn't work. He began to despair, but then he remembered that there was another knife. It was the big knife, the really sharp one that she had warned him never to use. She had said she would be very angry at him if he used that one.

But she was already angry at him, and none of the other knives worked. So he went and got the big knife, and he sawed at the rope and at first didn't look like anything was happening, but then the rope frayed and she was free.

She fell. But as she fell she began to tilt through the air, and he realized with a start that she wasn't going to land on her feet like he thought she would. She landed on her head instead with a crash and just lay there, completely still, staring back up at him.

"Mother. . .?" he whispered.

He went down the stairs, leaving the knife where it was although that was naughty, and he went down to make sure she was okay. But she wasn't okay and he poked her and gave her Teddy to hold and she wouldn't look at him, her eyes were open but she wouldn't look at him or anything and he began to feel really bad.

"Mother? Mother, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that to happen .. ." She wouldn't listen to him either. He began to poke her, began shouting and begging her to wake up but she didn't and he began to realize that she wasn't going to and that she'd left him all alone.

Alone.

"Why, mother," Naoki whispered, not even realizing that he had just aged 10 years in an instant. It was fifteen year old Naoki that was holding her now, begging her to wake up, crying and sobbing. "Why did you leave me? Why did you go?"

His mother turned to him, opened her eyes.

To get away from you, DEMON CHILD.

And her eyes turned red and her hair caught on fire and her hands turned into claws and gigantic fangs burst out of her mouth and horns pushed out of her head and her head was not human anymore but a goat's head and now there was a gigantic ciintepedey thing coming out of her throat and coming towards him with gigantic mandibles and –

Naoki stared, recoiled, and began to scream. "Aaaaaaah…"

Then the room he was in began to blur and fade, slowly replaced by the rooms and walls of a hospital room. . .

". .. . hhhhhhaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

. .. and he was up, truly awake this time, clawing at his ruined eye where the cintepedy thing had destroyed it and he was flailing and screaming.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!"

His flailing caused him to roll completely off the hospital bed and he fell down thrashing and rolling on the floor, grappling with the sheet.

"AHHH!"

The light! The bright blue light! It's burning me! I'm burning alive!

He thrashed, screaming in pain as he remembered the terrible agony that had left him blind in one eye and mute and he screamed until he was hoarse.

It was only then that he came to the startling realization that you couldn't scream if your tongue had been bitten in two.

. . . Huh?

He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, tried to look at it but his nose was in the way, so he settled for touching it with his fingers. Yes. His tongue was definitely there.

A. .. . nightmare. . . . it was just a . . . terrible .. .

"Ah. . . ahaha. . . "

He couldn't believe it – it had been so real. He tentatively put his hand up to his face, covering his left eye, the one that hadn't been . . . destroyed, and looked around.

He could see just fine.

HE COULD SEE!

A smile appeared on his face, at first tiny but then growing in size at the same rate of his chuckle, which was at first merely a nervous giggle, but eventually transformed into him rolling around on the floor laughing in sheer relief.

"Ahahahahahahhaahhahahahah!"

God, what a terrible nightmare! Naoki made a mental note to never have that caffeine drink again – it was so strong that it had given him nightmares about a terrible basement and the world ended and a stujpid centipedey thing and Ms Takao being a part of – no, he couldn't even say it, it was so ludicrous. Why had he thought of such stupid things anyway?

Hijiri.

Yes, it was all that stupid Hijiri's fault, him and his rambling on about demonic cults in the hospital, had scared the crap out of him. Now he remembered – he'd met Chiaki in the lobby, she'd sent him off to find Isamu, Isamu had gone off to get the annexe key card, Naoki had . .. what had he done? Well, he'd obviously just gone to sleep here on this hospital bed. How llong had he been sleeping? His friends must be going ballistic right now, he'd better call them and tell them he was alright, then continue his search for Ms. Takao. I hope she's okay, he thought.

Wait a minute. . .

Where's my phone?

He dug his fingers into his pockets, came up empty. Where had it gone? Was it in his jacket? Where was his jacket, for that matter? Oh, yeah - he'd left his jacket with Chiaki in the lobby. Drat.

Well, he needed to meet up with his friends anyway, so he'd probably just pick up his phone when he was there. He grinned, as he thought of the conversation. "Hey guys, you wouldn't BELIEVE the dream I just had!"

Well, no time like the present. Naoki got up off the hospital table, slicked his hair back, then headed for the door, but before he could open it, he heard the sound of a throat clearing. Curiously, he looked around. . .

. . . and came face to face with a ghost, which was glaring at him. "Fuck man," It said. "You have some serious issues."

Naoki couldn't agree more.

"AAAHHHH!" He recoiled away from the ghost, landed flat on his ass and scooted away from it into a corner, rapidly blinking his eyes as he went in an attempt to make it go away. It didn't work. The ghost was still there, dressed in a business suit and tie, smoking a cigar as it watched his hasty retreat.

"Jeez, talk about overdramatic. Come on man, you think you've got problems? Look at me! I was fired, dumped by my girlfriend, and shot full of holes by a madman and his cult, all in the same day!"

"You – you – you- YOU'RE NOT REAL!" Naoki declared, hoping that the ghost would take the hint and vanish.

"How rude! That's not very nice to say to someone!" The ghost replied. "You can't just barge in here (half dead or not) and start antagonising the locals! I swear, youths this day, they've got no respect for us old fogies. One day you're a high executive and everybody likes you, the next you're dead and you get totally ignored!"

"Why. . . what . . . who . . . " He couldn't get his head around it. I'm speaking to a GHOST. A GHOST. Why am I speaking to a ghost?

"What's with you, man?" The ghost told him. "You ain't never seen a lost soul? Been living your whole demon life in a cave, or what?"

"You – what did you call – There's a – here? Where? WHERE?"

"Where's a what?"

"Where's the – the - THE DEMON!" Naoki spat the word out, staggered around partly in an attempt to fight his nausea, partly in an attempt to make himself a harder target for God to hit with a divine lightning bolt. It's going to come...any moment now...

There was a long pause. Then the ghost poked a finger straight at Naoki's chest. "Right here."

And it all flashed back – Hikawa, the world ending, the centipede, the old hag and the young bastard. . .

It actually happened. It's all true. I've been turned into a –

"NO . .. nonononononononononononono. . ." Naoki began to whisper. "It's not true, it's not true, it's just a terrible nightmare… it didn't actually happen. . . I'm asleep. . . I need to wake up, someone pinch me. .. . OWW!" Naoki rubbed his arm desperately.

"Well, you asked. . . " the ghost said. "Man, you are one fucked up demon. Hate to tell you this pal, but you're in the wrong hospital. This one's for people sick in the body. The one you want's. .. oh, about half a k' that way."

I've just been pinched by a ghost. How did I just get pinched by a ghost?

"It didn't happen. It didn't! I'm not a – I'M NOT ONE OF THEM! I didn't see the world end! No!"

"Yeah you are, and yeah you did. What's the matter, slept through the apocalypse?

"This IS NOT HAPPENING!"

"Yes, already, I heard you the first time. Well, since you're so new at all, let me be the one to officially welcome you to the End of The World. Have a nice stay, see the sights, maybe eat a few humans whilst you're here, maybe even bring back a souvenir or two, just don't stay here and keep yelping. God, I've only know you for like two seconds and I already want to punch you in the face. If I knew eternity was going to be like this I really would have done more with my life . .. "

"I have to find Chiaki, Isamu. . . Mis. Takao . . SOMEBODY." He told himself. "I have to get out of here . . . get out of this place. . ."

"Yeah, don't we all." The ghost moved out of the way of the door as Naoki sprinted for it, "Well, nice knowing you . .. "

The boy was already gone, ripping open the door and stumbling through it. The ghost glanced at the door with disdain as it slammed shut in front of him.

". . . you weirdo."

Author's Notes

And on that note, welcome all! Black Snapper here. ,just wanting to take a moment to dance for joy, as this story has, according to this handy dandy little graph thingy, received 154 hits, 69 visitors and 6 reviews. Even more impressive, they continue into later chapters, which means people aren't just running away in terror at the gigantic warning plastered on the front. Big thank yous to: Hades378 , Lupus-Cantus-Grimoure , The Man Who Has No Life and Damien Black for your lovely reviews. A big round of applause to you all!

Now then: I'd like to hear your thoughts on the flashbacks. In my draft versions, they're littered absolutely everywhere through the story, for all of the major characters in the story, but I've come to realize that they, for the most part, could be classified only as filler - you can skip entirely over them and they don't really affect the story that much at all. I've kept this first one in (Naoki's nightmare after being demonified), since it seems to fit so well, but I'm thinking of either cutting the others out completely, trimming them up, or maybe even scooping the lot of them and putting them in a completely different fic. Thoughts, anyone?

Also, whilst writing through the fic, my brain seems to have gone through a defensive manoeuvre - every so often, completely random, OOC things pop up in my head. Sometimes they're plot holes filled in random ways, sometimes they're normally serious characters imitating different anime, sometimes they're just plain random stupidity. Since adding them into this story would absolutely ruin the flow, I've instead stuck them into my profile, which I update every time I update this story. Should I keep doing that, or would it be better to simply stick them here at the bottom, so that people can skip it if they need to?

Oh yeah, and keep an eye out for words running into each other, especially italic ones. For some reason, all of the spaces take off on a holiday when I upload these pages from Microsoft Word when they're in italics, and finding them all, especially in this chapter, was a total nightmare, if you'll parden the terrible pun. Ironically enough, it was Naoki's Nightmare that was the most nightmarish to fix - the ENTIRE section was mashed together, to my absolute outrage. That might be another reason I'm considering cutting out all the future flashbacks - they were going to be all in italics as well. It also ate my page breaks, but I think I've put them all back in. If the scene changes get a bit confusing, that's why.

Alright, that's all. Black Snapper, AWAY!

. . . Black Snapper, back again. Eheheheh, got a little carried away with the demonification process. Toned it down a bit.

Black Snapper, AWAY AGAIN!