InsaneJournal

Who: Damien Thorn
When: Night
Where: His room
What: His fear comes to life.. again
Rating: R
Status: Complete

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He had killed before. Others killed for him, and sometimes he caused the deaths directly. And would probably need to again. But there was one in his life that he had actually felt remorse for at the time. Not that he didn't now. It just wasn't a continually pressing thought, and besides it happened five years ago. He knew he was intrinsically evil. Maybe he was wired that way from birth. Of course, his destiny was to be the Antichrist, and really, he was that person now, as he always is. Sometimes, people just weren't comfortable with something like that living in the world. Which was idiotic when he pondered it... because honestly, if he was alive, then it was meant to be fate.

But here? His future was not clear. This wasn't an entire globe, unfortunately. He couldn't increase his influence that far. It was a mere city. And as useful as some of the natives would be, he wasn't too interested in gaining their worship. If they couldn't answer direct questions about Colligo and the state of affairs, then he'd have to wonder what else they'd be lacking in. He didn't even have his business here. Or even the wealth! He would probably need a job soon. Very soon. Preferably, something that gave him an administrative capability.

Lately, though, he had trouble sleeping. And it was getting to the point that even daylight hours were getting pretty bad. It always started simple, with sounds. The fluttering of wings. The feeling that very important and angry eyes were staring upon him just out of reach. It later became visual, mostly in the form of bright lights. Then the lights seemed... humanoid. And before it would fade, he'd almost swear it became shaped as a cross. And right now, he heard wings, saw blinding lights, yet not blinding. He held up his hand. "What do you want?" he asked, slowly getting up from his chair. "My power... my father is more powerful than your impotent God..."

The light flashed swiftly then, and he found himself flung to his back. The brightness dimmed a bit, and he saw what appeared to be a man in white robes, with wings... and a flaming sword. Pointed right down at his chest. He dare not move. The being spoke in an echo-like, stern voice. "Speak against the Lord again, demonspawn degenerate, and you shall reign in Hell early."

"But.. but free will, freedom of speech. As a demon-American.. err, Italian-English-American.. uhh..." He stammered, seemingly in fear. There was a cross of light in the background. And seeing it made it worse, feeling sweat on his brow. "I've done nothing wrong here, haven't.. killed-"

A new voice spoke, "You think that matters, jerk? Like people would really understand if they knew what you really were? Bitch, please." That voice sounded very oddly familiar for some reason.

Damien replied, "No.. but.. wait, but Adam! He's like me too. He knows. And he told others about it pretty publicly. And no one got any knives to kill him.."

The young voice laughed bitterly. Damien couldn't really see the source, as the light was blocking his view. "He's nicer. And besides, he never killed his cousin, like someone we know."

That brought a gasp from Damien then. He knew who this was. He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. But... "Mark?"

The light faded a bit, and a young man, someone in their early teens, stepped closer, crouching over him then. "That's right. Made some new friends, as you can see. But you'd know that. You're the one who sent me to them. I bet you're a real pro at murder now. Hmm?" He did not sound happy.

"But, but wait," Damien said in a panic, "I wasn't in control! I was.. new to this. I just lost it. You wouldn't listen to me. You turned on me! If you'd just calmed down and listened, you.. something just took over me. And then it was over. I.. I'm sor-"

He felt a kick then, from the boy. "Enough lies. You think that matters, that I'd care for pitiful excuses? Think that makes it better. You think that I could ever... forgive you?" He laughed. "No. No, you can't change that, you can't change the future, or what you are. You'll always be a wicked spawn of the devil."

Damien coughed, feeling weak then. He reached up to touch his cousin's face, only to have it slapped away. He didn't like this at all. He'd rather face down five priests than hear this from... him. "But.. But I can be like Adam. Or anyone else like us. Maybe.. a new way.." He suddenly felt sick. And as he looked to the side, he knew why.

The cross of light had formed into a man. It was so bright. Hard to know who it was. But he could sort of make out a beard. And something on his head. And as the man stepped close, each step left a spot of blood on the carpet. He was getting closer and closer. And as he did, holding a huge nail in his hand, Damien kept feeling weaker.

Damien choked, breathing heavy. It was sort of like a claustrophobic person suddenly finding himself in a closed area. It was just the bright lights, or what the new man held. It was just... something! Purity, holiness, whatever you call it. There was no mistake as to who this really was. The antichrist covered his eyes, as to shield them, and he cried out in pain and fear. As he took them away, he saw that the room was completely empty except for himself.

Mark was gone. As were the lights, the angels. And the Son as well.. along with the painful feeling He brought. And the blood rail on the carpet? That was gone as well. Almost as if nothing had been here. Damien breathed heavy for a few minutes as he crawled up to his feet. He sighed, looking feverish for a bit, until he returned to normal. "Father? Goddammit, where the fuck are you when your son needs you?? Yeah.. that's right, I'm swearing at both gods. I guess even this place won't even let you help me. What the fuck is this.. this shit, what.." He gasped. "Ohhh. Oh. Right, yeah. It's a warning. The angels weren't brought here by mistake. They were sent for me! And then, the Nazarene is to follow!! Yes.. I knew it, they're all out to get me. I'll be ready when they come next time!" He began pacing, shaping his head as he had a paranoid look in his eye like he discovered some secret. He also had a suspicion. He couldn't help but feel that when he did see this again, it would probably be the same outcome.. or worse...