Itchy looked at charlie in utter horror. No, this wasn't Charlie... this was a monster. Charlie had grown twice, no, triple his normal size. His muscles thick and bulging as he snarled and his gleaming red eyes burned into Itchy's. His teeth now fangs, and his fur ragged and dripping with blood. Itchy saw Anne just behind him, still knocked out. Charlie let loose a demonic roar that shook the ground. Fear held itchy in place, as he gazed helplessly at the hate filled beast in front of him. a furious fiery rage burning inside Charlie, he lunged at him as fast as a bullet, smashing him into the ground with one mighty headbutt to his side. Itchy closed his eyes and waited for his death to come. But it never did. Itchy opined his eyes slowly to find that charlie was gone. Police and medics were swarming the area. Itchy saw Anne being placed on a stretcher... at least she would be safe now. He got up and looked around, wondering if what had happened was real, maybe it was a nervous breakdown? Itchy knew however, that it was all to real, the question was how could it be? He was like, a demon... Itchy's eyes widened in a horrible revelation, and he began to quickly limp from the charred remains of the house. He had to find Charlie, he had to know what he had done.
Charlie lay in the dark alleyway, his body aching and tired. Blood staining his fur and the ground around him. It was midnight, it was quiet, it was cold, it sickened and comforted him. He had been there for a while, just thinking of how stupid he had been. He had blown it, lost the only chance he had at getting a taste of his old life back. He had calmed down enough so that he would transform into his normal self... it always hurt like hell. Charlie waited for a while, maybe a few minutes, five hours, a week. He didn't know, but eventually he was found. By his old friend. Itchy hadn't said anything when he found him, no words at all. They had just stared into each other, a mixture of every emotion welling in both of them. Charlie beaten, broken, and laying in a puddle of crimson. Itchy covered in ash, tired from the long search. "well Itch... I guess you wanna know whats going on, right?" charlie had to strain himself to speak.
"... charlie, I think I already know, but I want to hear you say it..." his voice was firm yet filled with sadness. Charlie looked away from Itchy, knowing he couldn't look him in the eye.
"Itchy, we don't get time off death for good behavior... nothing so easy or pleasant, something much more demanding. As I'm sure you know, there is a heaven and there is a hell... and to get here, I had to..." Itchy already knew what was happening, how could he have not seen this? Everything sadly made sense. "... I sold my sold to the devil." Charlie got up, looking Itchy in the eye. "while the devil may have a heavy price for this sort of thing. He doesn't go back on his word. I cant die for three weeks. If I get close to dying, there is some... demonic, intervention. That's what happened at Ann's house. I was possessed." Before Itchy could utter a word Charlie took off like a bullet down the alley, disappearing from his view as he rounded a corner. Leaving Itchy to take in what had been shared with him.
YEAH! Back bitches! This story aint dead! As I have finally overcome the god-awful curse known with hate by all authors. Writers block. Be ready for this to get dark... well, darker.