The fires of Hell greeted me as I once more gave way to my curse. Shit, I hope the kid survived at the very least. Tomorrow, people would think I left him and let him get hit by that car, but at least he would be breathing. The plan to form a friendship with him may not be viable anymore, but maybe that was for the best. Fucking Hell, I hope he lived. Poor fuck didn't deserve death.
My train of thought was shattered as my soul slammed hard into the ground in front of Satan and his son, Damien. Satan was like a gay adoptive dad to me. He was always there to give me advice and to help me through whatever bullshit I was going through. He helped me research my curse and gave me my own personal room in the Castle of Hell. The twelve foot tall red man with hooves was more of a father to me then the sperm donor I was constantly beat by back in the mortal realm. Damien was about my age with black hair, red eyes, and pale skin. He was angry nine times out of ten and hated everyone. He was also more like a brother to me than anything. My actual brother would rather drink and fuck whores than speak to me, but Damien was always there. He was rude, mean and violent towards me, but if I needed him, he was there.
I sat up slowly, tears for the fate of the kid I left upstairs in the hands of strangers blurring my eyes. I could hear the crunch of someone approaching me, but couldn't bring myself to look away from the darkness above me, staring up into the shadows as if I could see the kid through the layers of earth and magic. I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew it was Damien who had come to aid me, "another car, huh?"
"Yea," I spoke softly as I continued to watch the darkness.
"Hey," Damien turned my face to look at him, "The kid's fine. Some broken bones, bruises, and missing skin, but he's alive. He tried to crawl to you, just so you know. Don't worry, the Tucker boy stopped him, so he won't be scarred by the bloody mess you left behind. Tomorrow's not going to be fun for you."
"I know. I'm going to get so much hell for leaving the kid to get hit by a fucking car. I didn't mean to cause this. He screamed like his soul was being ripped from him and started crying. I was scared he was hurt more than I originally thought by the fuckers who hurt him this morning and froze hoping he was okay. I should have hurried to the other side and set him down before worrying about it. I'm such an idiot."
"Oh, sweetie, it's not your fault. You'd be here either way. The boy wasn't hurt; he was warning you. All you did was hospitalize him. He knows you didn't mean it. He tried so hard not to scream for you, too. Poor dear's gonna be confused when you show up tomorrow." Satan sighed, looking up at the darkness as well. His words felt like dry ice as they washed over me. Why would he be confused? He won't even remember me dying. Right?
"What do you mean, Old Man?" Damien growled as he spun to face Satan.
"The kid's special, one of the last of his kind. I doubt Kenny's curse would actually effect his memories. The poor thing is probably blaming himself for this mess, telling himself that his scream is what killed the bleeding heart before us." Satan sighed. "Damien, dearie, why don't you head up and check on the poor kid, take the portal, he'll be more likely to believe you are my son that way."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, but if I'm going up there to smooth out fuckface's fuck up, then you are telling me now what's so special about the brat." Damien seemed to be growing impatient with his father's little games. I wasn't so interested in what made the kid different as I was in why I wanted him to feel like he wasn't alone. The kid's different in all types of ways. His wild hair, his disheveled clothes, the bags under his eyes, the dependency on coffee, the hacking, the inventing, the highest recorded IQ in centuries, the panic attacks, the new kid at school, the anxiety in general. The kid was more unique than anyone I had ever met; I just wanted him to feel like he wasn't alone for once.
