So this has been sitting in my computer for a few months now...

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters

Chapter 4

A Day That Makes Hell Week Look Tame

Mystery POV

I sat at the edge of a cliff, sulking a little. Okay, a lot. But it's not really nice when someone insults you.

Watching the waves crash upon the shore was…boring. I'm sorry, but I'm not a very nature person. I'm more the type that sits around laughing, doing whatever with friends. Or I could be what some people call "the not-so-innocent" one. I sure look cute, but maybe I'm not quite as chaste as you think.

But don't get the wrong idea. I'm still pretty virtuous.

Where was my guitar when I needed it?

I stood up and stretched a little, yawning with pure boredom. Then I took a little walk, and ended up at my house. There was no one home, obviously, and no one wanted to rob the odd little cottage anyway, so I never locked the door.

Imagine my surprise when I twisted the knob and it wouldn't turn. Frowning a little, I tried again, to no avail. I walked to the back of the house, scanning the windows with my eyes. Nothing. So why didn't the door open? I tried the back door. Locked too. This was seriously getting out of hand. I scratched my head a little and wandered over to one of the side windows, pushing it to see if it was locked. The screen lifted easily and the glass pushed in. Jackpot.

I clambered into the house through the window (a little clumsily) and, without closing it, checked the doors. They opened without me having to undo the bolt. I stepped outside, closed the door, and then pulled it back open. So why didn't it open before? It definitely wasn't locked. I tried the same procedure with the back door. Same thing happened.

Either the door didn't like me, or an invisible someone was playing a very irksome prank.

I checked the window I just crawled through. Closed firmly and locked.

I think I'll go with inanimate objects hate me.

I tiptoed upstairs and peeked under my bed, just to make sure no one put a colony of ants down there, or my favorite CD. No, but there were a whole lot of mothballs and dust particles. I sneezed violently.

The dust particles rose a little from the force of my breath, then settled back down. Only this time, there was the word "Hello" written on the floor. It was like when a child draws on a foggy window. The contours of each letter were surrounded by dust. I bit my lip and squinted at the floor. There was no way the position of the dust it could be a coincidence.

"What in the world…?" I muttered aloud.

The dust rearranged itself with perfect precision. Now it said in smaller letters, "How are you this fine day, my friend?"

I grumbled under my breath and the dust swirled gently, as if laughing. Now it read, "I have a proposition for you."

"And what may that be?" I said, feeling foolish for speaking into thin air.

The dust danced madly as if it were laughing and then gently floated down. "Bring me the boy."

"What boy?" The dust didn't move anymore, so I repeated, "What boy?" and then blew on the floor.

"You know which boy," the layer of thin gold powder spelled.

I fidgeted nervously. "Look, who are you?" The dust spun in little eddies now, and I got the feeling that whoever was making them move like this was chuckling at my stupidity. I made a face in the direction of the floor.

"Remember." I shivered at the creepy font the single word was written in. Like dripping blood. It made my skin crawl, and reminded me of things I didn't want to remember.

"Remember. I am watching you." This time, not only was the dust spelling out the words, but a chill voice was whispering in my ear from nowhere, a voice that I knew from my dreams. Dreams that I barely recalled, dreams that I hadn't had in a long time. Dreams that eluded me for years. Or should I say nightmares? That word seemed to fit the voice better. Under the words written on my floor was a pair of glowing red-black eyes that reeked of cunning.

I flinched, recoiling and jumping back from the terrible eyes. They smiled at me with a voice of their own. "You!" I gasped. Any leftover happiness in my body disappeared.

"Me," the voice in my ear said calmly. "Of course," it added a little ruefully, "I don't suppose you'd like to add my name?"

I sat there paralyzed with terror and hatred. "You…the Black Prince!"

There was a round of applause from underneath me. "Congratulations! I see you finally found your senses. Though," it said a trifle sadly, "I much do prefer the name 'The Devil.' It makes me feel more terrifying. Huh. It seems you're terrified enough."

"Go away! Go back to Hael! You're not welcome here!" I couldn't help my voice from trembling.

The voice chuckled, and the eyes sparkled. "We'll see," the voice mused. "We'll see. Now, let's get down to business. Bring me the boy."

"Why do you want him?" I fired back. I knew by now that he meant Edward.

"For things that you will never understand," the voice sighed.

"Try me," I snapped.

There was a dry laugh, and then the terrible voice rumbled, "Oh, yes? You'll never understand the thirst for power and the need to rule supreme. I guess the O Mighty Great One has poisoned your mind with thoughts of peace and love?" There was a gust of cold, cold air, though none of the windows were open. A blanket of freezing cold embraced my brain, like an invisible, extraterrestrial being. It was the Black Prince's consciousness.

Mute and frozen, I nodded woodenly. I suddenly found that I couldn't move, couldn't do anything but obey the voice, and do what it wanted.

"Let me tell you, boy. Peace and love don't exist. The Creator tells you to set all your rage aside, and sing in harmony, right?" I nodded again at the scornful tone. "That's rubbish. What is life without rage? It shapes us, it makes us who we truly are. What kind of world would it be if everything were just dandy? No problems, no war, just endless love. Wouldn't that be boring?"

"Yes," I stuttered, hating how the word sounded.

"And isn't the Creator a mistake?"

I was about to open my mouth to say, "Yes," but resisted. Instead, I clenched my mouth shut and dug my nails into the wooden floor. To say that would be to commit treachery, and be a traitor to Heaven.

"Answer me, boy!" Still, I gritted my teeth and locked my jaw. "You will regret this." Now the voice was soft and threatening. Did you know that whispers are more deadly than shrieks of anger? I trembled with fear but said nothing.

It came without warning. Waves and waves of pain. I could do nothing but writhe in agony, trying my hardest not to cry out. My body twisted into distorting positions, and yet the pain still came, bearing down upon me like a wolf upon a rabbit. My vision went black, then I saw red. Fiery, terrible, bloody red, like the flames of Hael. I shuddered and held back my screams by biting my tongue until it bled and grew numb, and yet the occasional whimper slipped out, adding to the fuel.

Almost as fast as if came, the pain left. I lay on my stomach on the floor, with no clue as to how I got like that. My limbs were still shaking.

"Well, boy?" the voice crooned.

I spat out a mouthful of gold blood and glared at the hateful red eyes. More pain. More agony. And this time, a stirring in my heart. I saw flashes behind my eyes, blurry but enough to tell me what they were. I thrashed on the ground again and, unlocking my jaw, sobbed, "Yes!" It stopped again.

Panting, I stared at the place where the eyes lay. There was only a pool of crimson blood. "Look, child. Look closely. It's his blood. Bring him to me."

"No." I sat up straight, waiting for the pain to cripple me again. But it never came.

"No?" the voice said, and I detected cool amusement. It made me hate the voice even more. "No? You won't bring me the boy? That's a mistake right there, boy."

"I don't care. You can hit me with all the pain you want, but I won't."

"Pain? Why, I won't make you go through any more physical pain, young one. But," I froze in terror, knowing what was to come a few seconds before it came. Of course, I realized that much too late to do anything. Much too late to put up my mental shields. "But, how good is your memory..." There was a malicious pause, before the voice plowed on, "…Nico?"

Then the memories that I kept sealed carefully behind the secret vault in my brain flooded out. My heart felt too swollen for my body, and my lungs too tight. My chest constricted, I found it hard to breathe. Soon enough, I was gasping for breath. The hazy images that flashed behind my eyes when the pain hit the second time suddenly became crystal clear. I screamed, I thrashed, I tried to get away, but how can you get away from all the memories that plague you, when they're inside of you? All the pain, the loss, the guilt, the responsibility. The death.

"Have you had enough?"

I lifted my head. The red blood was gone, and the eyes were back. I lowered my eyes, defeated.

"Have you? I'm getting impatient." An invisible hand brought up the image of an empty crib. It wasn't gory, it wasn't full of blood – it was just sheer…emptiness. The picture became ten-times clearer, and there was a little baby girl in it smiling up at me. I reached out a hand for her, but she disappeared the next second. With a small moan, I nodded and hung my head in shame.

"You will?" I nodded again. I was unable to meet the eyes of the Black Prince, and unable to look up at the sky, where the Creator dwelled. "Excellent!"

Traitor, my brain whispered to my heart. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. I tried to block it out, but the screams became louder and louder. TRAITOR! The last yell was mixed with a woman's cry, "Cynthia!"

Trembling, I looked up. The dust was gone, as were the eyes. The lone field mouse sitting there squeaking up a storm scared me nearly as much as I scared it. It let out one more indignant squeak before scurrying off. Such a seemingly innocent creature. And yet, who knew what it was plotting in its tiny mind?

I slumped back down, feeling as if the whole world rested on my shoulders. My true name still resounded in my ears.

There was a prickling behind my eyes. Tears. I hadn't cried in so long. In fact, I'd thought it unmanly and, even though it made me miserable sometimes to keep all my emotions bottled up inside, I somehow let it out some other way. I know, I act masochistic. But this time, I welcomed the unshed tears. They made me feel a fraction better.

I lay back down and welcomed the crushing darkness I'd held at bay for years.

So...? How was it? Please review, they mean the world to me! HIATUS: I still am on hiatus, don't know when I'll be back since I'm having problems with my Twilight plotbunny, who's hiding from me. But I thought that, hey, since this is already typed it and has been for about a year now, I might as well post it. (: