The twisted tale of Johnathan Christopher Morgenstern.

1

As I grew older, my father told me of my mother's harsh abandonment. I grew to hate her, as well as the blonde angel boy that lived in the Manor House.

My anger raised me alone, taking notes of me on each of his visits. He told me I was made special, infernal blood running through my veins. Greater Demon Blood. It made me stronger, stronger than any Shadowhunter there was. But the other Johnathan, he had Angel blood singing in his veins. He was almost as sting as me, according to my father. But I knew I was better, I knew that my father thought so too. But now I was to go away for a while. I was to go to Paris for a special job for my father.

It was a very small bar, on a narrow sloping street in the town walled by shadows. I have been sat here for about half an hour, finishing my drink before getting to my feet and heading down the long, rickety flight of wooden stairs to the club below. I could feel the pounding beat of the music pulsing beneath my feet in each wooden step. The place was filled with demons, the stench of decomposing corpses was strong over the smell of alcohol and the smell of artificial fog prowling at my ankles. Because of all the demons that hung about here, this was a usual place for Shadowhunters to prowl.

Coloured smoke drifted through the air, smelling slightly acidic. I could see myself in the long windows; a slender figure wearing black, my fathers snowy white hair and my black darting eyes. It was muggy in here, my shirt sticking to my back in sweat. My eyes scanned the room and finally landed on him.
A boy. Maybe 17.
A Shadowhunter.
Sebastian Verlac.
I had chosen him carefully, like one would choose a sword. I looked at him as I walked towards him. He had black hair, to which I would have to dye my own to match. Annoying but not impossible. He had the same slender build and his eyes were black too. His features, though irregular, cane together quite pleasingly. He had a friendly aura to him that was quite attractive.

Finally I reached the fool, sliding into the seat next to him.
"Hello." I said and he turned, wide eyed, obviously shocked to be seen.
"Hello." He said back. His eyes were narrow now, trying to figure out who I was.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." I suggested and smiled, something I haven't done in a while. My father had trained me to smile in such a way that made me look charming, irresistible. His hand tightened but flipped over, showing his Voyance Rune. I did the same and I saw all the tension leave him at once. He smiled, as if we were old friends.
"Are you on your way to Idris too?" I asked, as if I were in regular touch with the clave.
"I'm representing the Paris Institute. I'm Sebastian Verlac, bu the way." He held out his hand. I took it and we shook hands once before letting go.
"Ah, the Verlacs. A fine old Family. Mark Blackthorn of the Los Angeles institute. I was studying in Rome but thought I would go around and see the sites before visiting Alicante." I told him with ease. I had researched the Blackthorns in case I bump into one in Alicante.
"I haven't seen another Shadowhunter in here in ages. Funny to run into you here." He chuckled before sipping on his glass.
"Though not entirely by chance. There are reports of an Eluthid Demon out here. I assume you have heard as well?" Sebastian smiled and finished the rest of his drink.
"After we kill the thing we must have a celebratory drink." He shot me a quick smile before we heading into the cold Paris air. Why had this been so easy? All I had to do was turn up and there he was, so tempting, so trusting.

I never played fairly with others. Not that I had the chance of course. My father kept the other Johnathan away from me. A child with angel blood and the other with demon blood- raise them and see who makes daddy proud. The other boy had failed the tests and was sent away. I, on the other hand, had passed every test my father set for me. Maybe to flawlessly. Unfazed by the dark isolation chambers or the whip or the hunt.
I had never liked the idea of the other Johnathan, who was able to make father smile without the grief or doubt in his eye that I gave him. I had cut a dummy's knees off once and slit it from neck to navel. And when my father asked why I simply told him it was because I wanted to know what it was like to kill someone my own size.

Thinking of the Angel boy, I thought of Clarissa. Only weeks ago had she proven that she knew about how to use her Rune powers. She had never chosen to leave me. Before birth she was forced to go, go and live amongst the Mundanes and Downworlders. She too had angel blood like the other Johnathan, but I have infernal blood corrupting my veins, contaminating every human cell there was in my body. I was just like my father, but stronger, tempered by the fires of hell.
The thought of Clarissa excited me in a way I had never felt before. She was my sister. Mine. She belonged to me. I knew that because, though I didn't dream often, after my father had told me about her sinking the ship with her abilities I dreamt of her. I dreamt of a girl standing in the sea with her scarlet hair whipping around her head like smoke, cooling around her shoulders. Her emerald eyes stared at the lifeless bodies that floated face down among the wreckage in the water. We were laughing together, surrounded by nothing but destruction and darkness. Destruction we had caused together. Clarissa was looking down as she laughed, her hands submerged in the dark water. It wasn't until she lifted her hand did I realise that it wasn't water at all. It was blood.
I woke up still laughing from the dream.

"You have the oddest of looks on your face." Sebastian chirped. He was turning out to be surprisingly chatty. It was annoying. "So, where is this demon?" He asked, his hand close to his weapon on his hip. A devious grin broke out on my face. The demon inside me was growling and pounding at me to let it out.
"Right here." His face dropped as he realised he was betrayed. The blade sliced through the thick skin of his neck like butter, his warm blood spilling on my finger tips. Blood splattered over my face as the skin opened beneath the blade. He made a strange gurgling noise as he fell to the ground, blood still pouring from the gash at his throat. Blood spewed out of his
Mouth as I carried him through the streets, heavily glamoured. I stood on a bridge and dropped the body in the river. The body sank, taking all the secrets with him. Water had splashed up, baptising me with a new name.
I was Sebastian now.

I strolled along the bridge to the old town. I headed towards the hotel to which Sebastian had been staying at. I needed to get a few of his things. I knew I could easily scramble up the window and the the boys belongings then after that, get to the nearest shop for a bottle of hair dye...
A group of French party girls wearing shimmering cocktail dresses stumbled past me, angling their gazes and one, her silver skirt mid thigh gave me a direct look.
"What's your name, pretty boy?" She asked while stroking my hair, her voice slightly slurred.
"Sebastian." I said smoothly. That was who I was from now on, who my fathers plan required me to be. "Sebastian Verlac." I looked into the sunrise and thought again of Clarissa.

I was going to enjoy being Sebastian.

A/n: hey! This is my first fanfic I have written. I hope you enjoy hearing Sebastian's thoughts and feelings x