Who: Damien and his ghosts [OPEN] When: December 21st, around 1:15am Where: Downtown, near alleys What: Ghosts are more serious Rating: TBD Status: In progress
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Damien had put scent bombs in his house, in every single room. He wasn't sure if it had worked. He had not returned yet. Maybe soon. He had seen Mark a few hours earlier, but the spirit had popped out a bit afterward. Damien was now walking in the downtown area. Most of the shops were closed. But he still needed a walk. Needed to think. He was also confused; Ruby was missing? For quite some time, it seemed. Just how that was possible, he had no idea. He thought that supernatural beings, certainly angels and demons, could find each other if there was a connection, or spiritual trail. But then he really didn't know much about that stuff in particular. And he had never really seen her in person or knew her personally like a few others did. Still, he kept his mind open to any of his people that might catch a glimpse of someone that looked like her, even though the odds of that might be a bit slim. He only had a handful.. not really enough.
As he walked, the young cadet said behind him, "Hey, you know, it's so cool the stuff they got here. You people really have everything. Better than SNES."
"Mark!" Damien turned to see him. "I'm so happy to see you again. I was afraid you'd left forever."
Mark stopped. He set a hand on his shoulder, tentatively at first. "Damien. You know. You know that.. it isn't like that. I will not be here forever. I know you'd like nothing more than that. You might even give up your fate, your purpose.. possibly your dark heritage,.. so long as I was with you. Maybe."
"Yeah... maybe," Damien said with a nod. He wasn't wholly certain. He might consider giving it up in that case. Or he could do one better and still do it, just with Mark at his side. Hell, they could even run the company together. But that was a dream. He knew damn well that this was temporary. It sucked, but that's how it was. He could still dream anyway.
"I can't tell you what to do," Mark said solemnly. "Just.. be careful? Don't show your hand? I'm not saying to deceive, even though.. well, you're probably naturally that way. Just use caution with everything. Trust in yourself alone."
"Yeah.." Damien nodded. "You're the only one I can really trust with stuff like this, right? You know that." Seeing him nod, he went on. "Maybe someday you will get to meet Jake. Or if he will exist, you'll at least watch over him from up there. Assuming I'm successful in saving him.. or anyone from that thing." He used his phone then to snap a couple pictures.
"What are you talking about?" Mark asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you forgot who you are. Come on, you can do anything. You usually win. At least, that's what I remember. Though.. that kind of winning then wasn't always good."
Damien agreed. "We'll see. We'll just have to see how it goes. I really do wish you had grown up with me to this point. I was in a world for two weeks where you did live. You'd have loved life. Going to parties. Drinking. Graduating school. Being with a woman.. in that special way. It's just so right, so good, and right there, where nothing else matters but that moment.." He stopped, then laughed. "Err, sorry. Got kinda caught in my own memory of Yale- aggh! What the.."
"Damien!" Mark stared, pointing at his cousin's upper arm. There was a dagger sticking out. But not just any one. It was one of the seven holy Daggers of Megiddo. "Is that.. is it what I think it is.."
"Dammit." Damien pulled it out, none too pleased at this. Then he saw that Richard was standing across the street. And threw another one, but he turned, and it went into his shoulder. "Mark??" He frantically tried to reach it.
"I got it!" Mark pulled it out and put it in his jacket. The fact that he did not use it, or push it deeper into the antichrist definitely meant something. And it did not go unnoticed.
Seeing his foster father running toward them, Damien yelled, "Where the heck did you learn to throw like that? They give circus lessons in Heaven?"
Mark yelled, "Dad! What are you doing?!"
Richard was crossing the street. "He is the son of the Fallen One! The boy has got to DIE!"
"Excuse me," Damien said, "but I'm not a boy anymore, I did graduate from Yale, you know. Okay.. yeah, not the time to talk." He started backing away. "Mark?..."
"Coming," His cousin said, following him. He turned a moment to look behind. He saw the man holding the dagger up as though to strike if he got close enough.
Richard seethed, "He's brainwashed you. He made you his!!"
Mark retorted in return, "He did not! I'm not hi, just.. I understand more. Dad, please!"
"No.." Richard kept chasing. "You are his agent now. You must perish your body by this blade, in order for your soul to be saved."
Damien ran, but turned enough to reply to him, "And how is murder of your own son condoned by God? Even I can see how messed up that sounds, and coming from me, that says something." He snapped a photo or two of him as well, then kept running.
The two boys kept running, passing through an alley. Then crossing another road and ducking into another alley. Mark gasped, saying, "Think we lost him? Look.. I know you're technically evil. But he.. I don't get it. It's over. We're gone. But he can't rest, obviously."
Damien shook his head. "Don't know.. best not to stop running." He looked up. "Heavenly.. okay, so you're not my father. I shouldn't even do this. We're enemies, I get it. And asking for help from you is like, maybe.. high treason against my own father. But hey, he was rebellious too.. yes? Maybe this is my time to rebel too. But.. okay, yeah, mate, I'm praying. Please make a way out. If you do.. umm.. well, uhh.. I won't brainwash any slaves like Logan again."
Mark shrugged, looking around nervously. "You think that will even work? No offense, I just am not sure if He would even hear it from you of all people."
Damien sighed. "Yeah.. good point. Then again, this is me, so maybe he did hear. If he exists anyway, I'm just grasping at straws here. Maybe we really ought to keep moving. Yes.. let's do that. Safer that way."
"Alright," Mark said with a nod, "can't think of anything else. Not sure he'd hurt me, or if he can. Dad's a spirit like I am, like Marion was, like Jake too. But you.. well.."
"I know." Damien looked down for a moment, then back at him. "But he can hurt me. Somehow. Weird, the daggers were technically lost in the museum fire when I was 13. Oh, and Mark? Some chance I don't make it from this.. I love you. Always did."
Mark paused, taken aback for a moment. "Yeah.. I.. yes, I think I understand now. And for what it's worth, I love you.. too."
"You know it's worth a Hell of a lot. No pun intended." Damien smirked slightly. "One more?" He motioned with his phone.
Mark shrugged, letting Damien put an arm around his shoulder. "Sure, why not? But.. you sure that works? I don't know if we'll show up on it. Ghosts.. you know."
"Not sure," Damien said, holding the phone out, aimed at the two of them. "Guess I will find out later. Figured I should try just in case." He took about three more as they posed. "Okay.. I'll hide.. maybe you.. in the open? Try to direct him the opposite way." Then he started again, running further into the alley.
Mark followed behind him, noting that they were in an empty lot behind a store. "Okay, might as well help you somehow. You know, it was.. terrible.. what happened to me. But it's in the past. Besides, it isn't like I can do anything about it, and whining.. well, I'm in a better place."
"I know," Damien whispered. "I'd take that whole day back if I could do it over again. I promise you that." He then moving beside a dumpster so as to hide himself, but accidentally bumped his shoe against the metal. "Damn.."