D&D #8

Hey, ZoNe13 here. Getting interesting, huh? Well, here's the next chapter, so enjoy!

I walked into the school the next day and sat on one of the benches. I couldn't believe that my sibling was going to be born of both Heaven and Hell. I didn't know what to do. There was no law in Hell stating that if a child were to be born of both light and darkness, it would have to be killed. It was a paradoxical situation, and one that made me angry just thinking about it. I checked my phone for the time, which was 7:00 AM. Class would start in forty minutes, so I waited for Warren to arrive. After five minutes, he came walking from the building. He saw me and sat down on the bench next to me.

"Morning, Jason." Warren said, looking at the sky.

"Mornin'. What's got you bummed out?" I said, curious.

"My parents are giving me shit because I don't bring any girls to the restaurant I work at." Warren said. "I've tried telling them that I'm not interested in having a girlfriend at the moment, but I guess listening isn't a parent's strong suit."

I looked at him, then spoke. "Well, you may be right about that. The only truths that parents listen to is their own. They hear what they want to hear, and tune out just about everything else. But let me play devil's advocate for a moment and say that I can see where they're coming from." He looked at me in curiosity. "It must be a tradition to have a kid at your age and raise him the same way your parents did you, right?"

"Yeah." Warren said. "Dude, you may be the Devil's son, but you're a pretty good guy."

That struck me harder than a steel beam ramming me in the gut full force. I looked down at the ground and stared. Suddenly, I felt trouble coming. I had attained this ability from being born from a demon. It was like Spider-sense for demons. An ice ball came from behind me, and I swiftly caught it and threw it back. The person who threw it back got hit and dropped to the floor in a daze.

"Warren, we better find someplace else to chat. This place is getting overcrowded with intellectually-challened primitives with powers."

Warren grabbed his stuff, and we walked to the lunchroom, which was thankfully devoid of teens, but still had the lunch ladies standing around, waiting to serve breakfast to the kids. Warren grabbed a bowl of cereal, while I just got white milk and a packet of graham crackers. We sat at our usual spot and talked.

"How'd you know that there was an ice ball flying at us?" Warren asked, opening his cereal.

"Demons are like...well, like clones of Spider-man, but without the suit, webs, or ability to make moronic quips. We can sense danger at a range of three hundred meters in all directions, and we act accordingly." I said, beginning to drink the milk.

Warren looked shocked. "Wow. I wish I was a demon, then."

"Believe me, it's harder than it looks. Sure the pros are that you get awesome powers, you get to torture the damned for all eternity, and you get free dental and medical care without question, but the cons far outweigh the pros." I said.

"How so?" He said, unsure.

"Well first of all, you have to be born of one of the seven sins, which are Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Lust, Wrath, Pride, and Greed. And judging by the way you see the world, you're on the fast track to Wrath. The next thing is that you'd have to utterly denounce either God or religion in general. Then, once you become a demon, you are nothing more than a foot soldier in someone's army. They brand you, and then you're that general's to command. The worst part is that you can't climb the ranks until you kill the demon above you in rank." I explained.

"Does the demon below you in rank ever win?" He asked.

"Let's just say that out of the millions who have tried, only three have succeeded, and that was because they had poisoned the person above them first." At that moment, the bell rang for class to begin, and we went our separate ways. I pulled my schedule out of my pocket and checked it. My first class was Advisory, with the Jarhead. I groaned, knowing that I was going to receive some flack for being able to summon demons. I walked to the gym and had a seat on the back row of bleachers. I sat the backpack down and pulled out my breakfast: A Tupperware container filled with pancakes, plus some syrup packets that my mom kept in case of a glucose emergency. I opened the syrup packet and let it run all over the pancakes. After ten minutes, other kids piled in and sat down, including Stretch and Fatass. I had finished eating and put the container into my bag when those two came to annoy me.

"Well well, if it isn't the big bad demon kid. Tortured any good souls lately?" Fatass said. I didn't want to waste my energy on these under-developed, paint-huffing plebians, so I put my headphones in and cracked open my other book, 1001 Ways To Cope With Idiots. I had just gotten to number 34 when the Jarhead came to the middle of the room.

"Welcome, new students. I'm Coach Boomer, for those of you who don't know me. As of right now, I'm your Advisory teacher." He said.

I knew that this was going to be a shitty day. The moment he said that introduction, he might as well have said "Welcome, fresh meat. Here, I'm going to turn your pride into Jell-O and make you my playthings for the rest of the school year."

"Since this is the first day, we will be doing something different: We will be playing a game." He smiled, obviously feeling him bore into my already dead soul.

"Shit." I said.