~Lucas~  

Everything else felt like a lucid nightmare. Like someone else was controlling my body, as I bathed myself in utter satisfaction.

I had to agree. Seeing them cower in fear in front of me like that... Was priceless.

I never felt so good before, as I sat back and relaxed, leaning and relying on the one who always, always protected me from the bad guys. I knew it was so wrong, yet I can't help myself but feel happiness for their deaths. Is this so wrong? To feel all giddy and excited whilst disgust and guilt settled in like a horrible indigestion inside the pits of your stomach?

"Is everyone dead?" I asked, my smile still visible inside this dark space that 'he' called home.

"Yeah, I killed them all." My counterpart smirked, victory and pride plastered all over his face. "Did that make you happy?"

He handed me a glass filled with wine. Blood red wine.

My stomach began to turn, and I questioned my own sanity. Why did I even feel amused? Why was I happy? Because Lucifer managed to kill them, just as I had wished unconsciously?

I shuddered. The man I'm talking to isn't human. And I'm not sounding like a proper human being either.

He tilted his head to the left, and took a small peek at my devastated expression. "Geez... Lucas. You're so soft, sometimes it makes me wonder, does staying in the human world make you a marshmallow?"

"You knew I didn't really mean it," I whispered. "Anger is only momentary. I didn't really mean to wish that they were dead."

The devil rolled his eyes. "You're seriously turning soft, Luciferous." And with that, he sat down beside me.

"I'm gonna have to make some changes to you, in order to keep you safe." 

My eyes widened, as I inhaled sharply and glared at him. "What are you planning to do to me?"

My counterpart shrugged. "Dunno. It might hurt, it might not."

"What do you mean by that?!" I yelled. I was on the brink of tipping over... and I wanted everything else to end. I was beginning to turn into someone like him. Lucifer's existence was already influencing mine. I'm becoming evil—just like him. And I'm desperately trying to prevent that from happening. I don't know what might happen to me after this, but I'm not gonna take the risk of trying to find out.

"Well," the devil stated with a huge smirk planted on his face, as he proceeded to ruffle my hair, and I could do nothing.

"You'll have to find out."

And that's when he suddenly reappeared behind me, and the horrible feeling of searing pain entered my body, drawing lines and strange patterns on my back, giving me the feeling of scorching pain.

I wanted to die right then and there, but I knew that he will never let me die. That's the reason he's protecting me even though he wants nothing more than to make me suffer.

*****  

I opened my eyes. The walls were white, and the florescent lights nearly blinded me. I felt weak and helpless, after succumbing to the devil's advances, only backing out on the last minute.

"L-Lucas! You're finally awake!" My dad gasped, grabbing me and pulling me into a tight hug... Never letting go.

"I'm so glad, s-so happy, that you're not hurt." Tears were streaming down from my father's eyes, and I grimaced in reply.

Lucifer actually healed me completely. If he hadn't, then my father would've been crying over my cold, dead corpse... battered and bruised.

But I also knew what I did. I killed the other students. I burned them all to death. And Brick, well... I don't know where Lucifer threw his head, but it was gone when the police arrived, along with some concerned teachers.

To add insult to injury, Lucifer even cut off that guy's d**k, and threw it off somewhere— I don't know where.

"It's all my fault," I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken.

"I... I should've just died instead."

I heard the doors banging, and the angry parents of those that I killed lunged straight towards me, angry cries for justice, cries for the lost lives of their children.

I honestly thought it was good. I've gotten rid of future criminals. Those cowardly bullies deserved to die anyway, and those malicious thoughts reminded me: that's how Lucifer thinks.

I should stop thinking like him, or else I'll end up getting taken over.

I ignored the fray, and looked at my crying father. How can I possibly help him now? I'm the cause of his problems.

And that's when I noticed the piece of paper that he was holding. My eyes widened for I had no recollection of ever thinking of killing her.

Room 030: Julie Anne Sanders
Status: Deceased
Time of Death: Aug. 16. 20XX, 5:32 pm.

My shoulders sagged. Lucifer. He was acting on his own accord! Fiery flames of anger welled up from inside of me, and I clenched my fists, trying to control my raging emotions. 

Why her, why choose Teacher Julie of all people? Before I knew it, droplets of wet substance fell from my face, landing softly unto the white blanket. My tongue lingered with the bitter taste of regret, and the stench of death hung around my nose like a curse.

"You wished for her to disappear, imbecile," Lucifer's voice rang out from the back of my mind, as I clutched my forehead. I'm going insane and he's enjoying it.

I bent my head down in fear and utter guilt, until I spotted a certain man with a lengthy brown hair tied up into a ponytail. The man was just standing there, checking his watch from time to time as I watched in return with growing curiosity. He was wearing a doctor's uniform, but I clearly saw the black tattoo placed on his right wrist just underneath the long sleeve, forming the shape of two dwindling snakes.

As I stared further, his stilted and slightly urgent gaze landed on mine, and I flinched in response against his 'mind-your-own-business' glare. What kind of badass doctor had a personality—and a tat—like that?

I felt my father's hand brushing against mine, and even though it was quite painful, I tore my questioning stare off of the doctor with the weird slanted eyes.

***** 
Somewhere...
*****   

"I'm so nervous, guys," Daiz (read as 'Dice' with a 'z') mumbled as he stashed both hands into his pockets anxiously.

"This is our first time doing this with so many people in our disposal," his band mate replied with a large grin.

"How come you sound like an evil warlord?" Another one of them retorted with a cheeky laugh... And the rest of them ended up chuckling to themselves as well.

Daiz Reynolds, a working student at the age of sixteen sighed in approval. He had been practicing so hard just to catch up as their band's pianist.

And now, everything else was about to pay off.

"There's one more thing making our Mr. Heartthrob nervous," Daiz's best buddy, Richard chimed in energetically.

"I heard that she's coming here."

Gasps and cheers came erupting from the rest of his friends... making Daiz's cheeks flush, but he didn't want to be obvious. He simply rolled his eyes, glancing from side to side, hoping that he'll see the person he wanted to see the most.

More and more people were coming in, and it was almost their cue. So with heavy breaths, the new member of the group 'Catharsis Cataclysm', or CC for short, climbed up the stage with his seniors.

"Hello everyone!" Their band vocalist and leader, Jacob shouted with enthusiasm, and it was paid back with a roar of cheers and squeals from their fans.

"Tonight, our show will be composed of burning passion for rock! I hope you're prepared!" Their guitarist, who happened to be Richard, strummed the cords slowly, as if testing them.

The drummer of the group, Hayden, waved both sticks high, and began banging them with each other in a countdown.

Daiz took a sharp breath to relax himself... And that's when their music echoed throughout the entire stadium, reverberating from the humongous speakers, nearly deafening everyone.

It was CC's third month of performing their songs weekly. Everyone was excited because of the new band's surprisingly good taste for music, and no matter what kind it is, their compositions always consisted of love, faith, passion, and loyalty.

Daiz fit right in. It was his dream and passion, to let the whole world know how much he loved his family.

In the midst of their concert, however... Daiz's eyeballs landed on her.

Nervousness overtook his senses, and he forgot the notes, rendering his fingers shaking, and his palms began to sweat like crazy... Until their band's bassist, Noir, jabbed an elbow to his ribcage.

"Get it together, man," the bassist started with a whisper. "Do you want her to be disappointed in you?"

"O-of course not," the pianist whispered back, slowly regaining his confidence, ounce by ounce.

*****

Their performance finally ended after a few enthralling minutes— but for Daiz, it was the most mind boggling.

He wanted to know what she thought of his performance, since it was the first time she came. Daiz tried parting the crowd, just to get to her... And it didn't end up in a failure.

Since there she was, waving at him energetically, a large, proud grin across her beautiful features.

And it made Daiz's breathing hitch a little.

"That was quite good," the lady stated, eyeing his expression with a mischievous look. "Though... Rock music really isn't my style."

The new pianist's shoulders sagged, but the lady simply laughed, patting his back, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Just kidding." The woman quickly took back her words, and Daiz's face turned into a sweet and tender smile.

"Really? You liked that performance, mom?"

"Yes, yes, I did... Stop screaming already," Daiz's mother, Alexandria Reynolds cooed as the smoothened out her son's messy, light brown hair.

At the age of thirteen, Daiz never imagined that someone would still pick him, out of all those innocent and adorable children in the orphanage.

He thought he was nothing but a burden to everyone... So he tried his best to attain a pleasant personality, until the time comes that he turns eighteen, and he will eventually get kicked out.

But Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds came one day, and they were looking for a sweet, mature son that they can take care of. Coincidentally, Daiz was both of those things.

The signing of paperwork and contract took them two and a half months, but after that... Daiz's new life began. It had been three years now, but his illusion that he should please people to gain their approval hasn't waned.

"Our gig's done," the hardworking teenager beamed at his mother, who only paid it back with a genuine smile.

"So we should go home, mom." Daiz held his mother's hand tightly, and the two of them left without even telling his band mates. Well, they already know about it, anyway.

Besides, Daiz knew better than to put too much pressure on his beloved mother's plump belly, where his four-month old little sister lay in a deep slumber.

"Don't worry about me, son," his mother started, making the boy's eyes widen. "Your father's waiting for me anyway. The two of you are so alike, being so overprotective of my welfare." Then she turned to her son and frowned.

"Are you sure that you're still having fun at this rate?"

"Of course. It makes me happy when my family's happy, so I'm only doing what I love," came the reply of Daiz, full of confidence, as he stated his purpose without any second thoughts.

His mother felt extremely proud, for she knows how lucky they are, just to have such a doting son like him. It was almost as if... He was their real son.

"It's almost ten, the two of you," Daiz's father, Travis Reynolds, chided as he honked numerous times just to garner his son's attention.

"Sorry dad," The boy began, as he escorted his mother to their truck's passenger seat, and he plopped himself into the backseat, exhausted from all the playing that their band did.

"Well, it doesn't really bother me, since you're a teenage boy and all... But don't forget about your mom and your soon-to-be sister," his father reminded.

"Of course, I won't."

***** 

Upon reaching their humble abode, Travis hurriedly parked their orange-coloured truck in the garage, so that he could attend to his wife, who was already relaxing inside with their son.

"Sleep early, Alexandria," He reminded, and his woman raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm watching my favorite show, Travis." She rolled her dark brown eyes stubbornly, taking a bag of chips from the fridge and munching them loudly, as if taunting her husband.

"Mom! You're not supposed to eat that!" Daiz yelled. "Bah. You're such a worrywart," his mother replied with a chuckle, and Travis muttered something too faint for him to hear.

Daiz shut the door to his silent sanctuary, contented at what he had achieved for the day. Tomorrow was gonna be another uphill battle. Baseball training with his rivals. Well, at least he had fun the night after.

The weary boy was about to plop himself unto the warm embrace of his bed when it hit him. Hard.

Surging amounts of pain coursed and reverberated throughout Daiz's entire body, starting from his right bicep. The sensation burned and etched itself unto his skin so suddenly, he didn't even had the time to steady himself. Just crashed to the floor, and bit his lip to prevent him from screaming and alarming his parents.

The strange phenomena wasn't over after that. Red, burning marks began to appear all by itself, running flawlessly across his bicep, giving the boy a feeling that another being was making him an instant tattoo makeover.

The pain continued, racing through Daiz's entire arm, and running down until it reached the deepest pits of his stomach, churning wildly, roaring loudly.

"You have been chosen." A devious voice echoed inside his brain, and no matter how hard the confused boy tried to shut it out, the eerie feeling of being watched was still there. And so was that goddamned voice.

"Do not try to fight it, warrior. Embrace the new gift I have given."

"Fuck," came out Daiz's reply in an almost incoherent groan.

The minutes lasted for hours, and Daiz's body began convulsing in pure, unblemished agony. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, and thick, red pelts of liquid dripped freely from his mouth, dropping to his shirt.

The pain had finally subsided, he thought, after writhing on the floor for what seemed like hours. His entire body was drenched in sweat, and had no choice but to take off his clothes, and check out what the hell just happened to his body.

Shivering, Diaz realized that the lights on the living room were already out, and the entire surroundings became spookily quiet, with only the hooting of the owl and the cricketing sound of the critters from faraway keeping him company. Even that wasn't so half bad for him.

He slowly stood up, feeling every single thing that is happening in his body. His own heartbeat erratic, nerves traumatized, and hands shaking from fear. The boy never realized that he had literally taken a bath on his own sweat.

Daiz was tired, and even as the pain disappeared, he still wavered. He wondered about the voice, and he wondered how he got those things. Exhaust consumed his entire being, so he decided to check upon his own body by the morning, and proceeded to snore on the floor.

*****
~Lucas~

"I don't think it's appropriate for you to go to school," my dad began, a thoughtful hand below his chin. "Well, not anymore..."

We were back to our house, safe and secure. Houser yapped and excitedly lapped at my face, but even he couldn't make me feel better. It's been a week since that incident occurred, but scars don't really heal, do they?

A wave of angry mobs banged across the door, and the police were doing a terrible job at keeping them away from us. From me.

"Dad," I began, hope leaving my entire body. What's the use of trying hard to strive in this world?

One should accept when he's lost the fight. I was never a winner... And I'll stay like that. My father was a positive person, but even he has his limits.

"I should just surrender myself to the police—or the child protection government—or whatever place there is." I limped from my bed, and walked over to my dad who was standing still, leaning against the doorway with a concerned expression.

"What did you just say?"

"I said I'll leave," stopping, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and looked down. I couldn't bear seeing his disappointed face. 

"For good."

A hand clamped itself unto my hair, and ruffled it reassuringly. "Don't say that, Lucas," he began, stroking my hair. "As usual, you don't think about anything but yourself. Pretty selfish."

I looked up at him and glared with all my might. "What do you mean, I'm selfish? I'm trying to stay away so that you won't get dragged into this mess!"

That's when my father's hand ran across my face in a sudden slap. My face was tilted to the left, red hue marking my cheek. I found myself dumbstruck for a second, wondering if my father just slapped me for real. It didn't hurt that much, but I was still bothered.

"Listen, that's exactly what makes you selfish. I'm your father, Lucas Stellar. Don't ever forget that. If it means facing off against the world because of my son's 'different side', I'll gladly do it." I felt a small pat on the back before my father walked out of my room.

My heart cringed. That's right, he's my dad. Why did I think I could handle things off by myself? Guilt. That's what I'm feeling right now, for ignoring my father's concerns, for trying to face off the devil on my own. He's right here, with me... Ready to protect me from harm. Biting my bottom lip, I forced a smile.

"Oh, and by the way, Lucas," dad's voice echoed down the living room, and soon after, the angry cries of the mob outside drowned out the rest of his words.

I went back to my bed, and hid myself underneath the sheets. The headache was coming back, and so will he. I don't know what my dad said before because of all the noise, but I'm sure he'll repeat that to me afterwards.

Hauser's weight nearly broke my spinal cord as he romped around me, a silly attempt to make me play with him. "Down boy," I told him off in a muffled voice. I buried my face in my pillow, and quietly wished everything else was just a dream. Well, it's not, so I better stop wishing.

"I seriously need to find a way to get rid of this literal inner demon."

Drowsiness began taking over my body once more, and despite the mutt's incoherent sounds, I fell into deep slumber.

*****
Third person
***** 

Matthew loomed over to gaze at the sleeping figure if his son. His brows creased to a worried frown, as the father turned to look at the time on their grandfather clock.

10:57 pm.

Three more minutes, he thought, and everything will be over.

Matthew had known about his son's curse when the feeble child was still six. A shaman had foreseen the dangers of Lucas's 'imaginary friend', along with his strange abilities, such as the abnormal way his eyes shifted to red from time to time, and the way shadows in the room danced for him.

Their entire family generation was of science and technology. His father turned loony short after the discovery, and killed himself thereafter.

Those strange strings of events had left the cursed boy's father wondering; has his father, William Luca Stellar awaken something he shouldn't have?

Matthew's train of thoughts halted themselves abruptly as the rings of his phone rang numerous times, and the man had to run away from his son's sleeping figure before he could wake up.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, shaky hands filled with cold sweat. Scrambling to press the answer button, he didn't even bother to look at the number of his caller.

"Y-yes?" His own voice hitched in his throat, and instead of sounding 'adult-like' his voice ended up in a pathetic squeak.

"Stellar Matthew. I've never been so enthralled to finally hear your voice." The person on the other end of the line sounded like a madman. Voice hoarse, cracked and battered as if he had just participated in an all-shriek competition.

"Does this mean you have reconsidered my offer?"

Matthew swallowed a lump in his voice box. Whatever it was, it was clogging his ability to speak. He couldn't trust such a man! Especially if his records indicated that he was relieved of his duty for being 'too enthusiastic', they say.

Nevertheless, he had to try. They were running out of plausible options, and that stranger had offered him plenty of benefits. He had never liked the guy, but for the sake of his son, he'll take the chances.

"Yes... I-I'll leave his welfare to you," the father answered, and once more, his voice faltered.

"Please do what you can."

The crackling sound of what he had guessed to be laughter replied, and even more hesitation and dread flooded into his mind.

"Don't worry, Stellar Lucas will be safe with us."

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And who was that madman?

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