The empty sound of droplets falling to their pointless deaths echoed in his mind. He sat there, staring into his possibly acid-bleached hand, staring into its pigmentless whiteness. The black of his eyes flared in its reflection as the ever-burning sun lit his skin up as if it were marble. He flung his hand up, moving the silvery-black thrashed hair from his eyes.

“I guess talking to myself is the only friend I have.” he whispered into the empty air, as if continuing a previous sentence. “Well, friend, I guess its the day.”

He stood up from his previously crouched position, now standing straight and with some form of posture.

“Perhaps the day to die?”

He began to walk off, out of the ally of which he currently found himself in.

The leaves on the ground of Oak Lane were particularly dry that day, as they crunched beneath his boot-clad feet. Fire burned in his eyes, he was ready to die for his goal. All the previous darkness that had once gripped him had left him, his mind was finally on a track that had no room for his frozen heart. Vengeance rued in him, his body almost leading himself, and then he stopped in his tracks.

“Mike?” its feminine voice questioned, with a slight sarcastic edge to it. The figure stood there, as if trying to maintain an almost humanly existence. Cloaked, yet carrying a grocery bag. Dark, yet passing by people unnoticed. Her face was not visible to him, but he knew the name assigned to it well.

He looked at her, her barely visible in the shadows she stood in.

“You...” Mike started, grinding it in his teeth, “Sha'aktivay... What are you doing here?”

“Well, lemme see about that one, Mike. Even we, HIS children, the loyal servants of darkness, must eat, am I right? And... this is free land, is it not?”

“...” He was speechless. Even her, the mistress of darkness, had a fair point. He wandered into thought for a mere moment.

“Even so,” he started, “Your goals contradict this world. May I suggest a duel to the death?”

“After a year of falsifying our existence, you now wish to 'fight'? So be it, oh Cotdo of the weak, so be it, lone wolf. BUT, know now that even though you were HIS chosen, HIS heir, I am still far above you.”

Mike kicked off the ground, ran at Sha'aktivay, jumped up, his thin body showing more energy than previously thought of him, and attempted to crush into into her skull with the edge of his fist. She merely dodged, leaving Mike with a handful of cement. It slightly cracked under his fist, but he felt the pain of it as his knuckles bled. He didn't have time to remorse over it, he quickly rearranged his hand so his palm was facing the ground, then kicked up to leg sweep the woman. Goal, she fell, tripped up over his leg, and hit the ground, her cloak still covering her face, though not as well.

Her skin, too, was without pigmentation, but it was smoother than Mike's. Her face, from what Mike could see as he glimpsed by after the kick, was beautiful, her face defined, her nose perfectly sized, and she was obviously thin, but not to the point of anorexic.

He kicked off the ground, easily reaching six feet into the air, and then kicked down on her. He found himself blocked. His foot had been grabbed, not by Sha'aktivay, but by a black, leathery hand, claws piercing into his boot, reaching deep enough to his skin. It was not the hand of a black man, but a hand of a demon who's skin was truly black, a darkness that, if black could, almost glowed. And that's all it was... Just a hand, reaching out of the air through a dark spot just floating there.

Mike began to feel himself fall, and retaliated by kicking down on the hand with his free foot. No avail. He fell straight to the ground, the crazy hand still grabbing him, now pulling, attempting to tear into his foot.

Mike's hand began to block out light, as darkness gripped it, he thrust his own darkness-covered hand into the one that was squeezing the life out of his foot. It disappeared, the demon dispelled.

“Well, Mike, there's some fight in you after all,” Sha'aktivay taunted, now standing above him looking down. Mike was on his back, clearly open for any attack she'd wish to throw at him. She lifted her foot, preparing to bring it down on him, and as she did, Mike kicked back, landed on all fours, and then thrust his darkness enveloped hand into the ground. Tendrils of black and white grabbed at any matter around them as a dark hole formed, little flakes of whiteness where the light had been forced to compress visible. Out of the hole rose a small impish creature as the tendrils of darkness enveloped and lightly wrapped themselves around Mike, as if tasting his skin. They encircled him as Kim backed away.

“Why such a small creature?” she whispered to herself, then jumped at it, grabbing it by the neck. “Mike, is this ALL you can muster? This, even for you, is pathetic, a failure!”

She threw the black imp, and in mid-air, it exploded in a fury of red and black, and then she walked towards the easy target that was Mike.

“Is that really all?”

Suddenly, she felt herself being grabbed from behind. A creature fit to be a general of the dark one himself had her by the neck with just one of its huge, scaly hands. It looked like a mix between dragon and demon, parts of it covered in scales, parts of it just... black. Its face looked like any normal mans, save it was covered in scales and its eyes were just white pits.

“You? Him? Why?” Sha'aktivay said in a fit. “Why would you serve our- -”

The sound of a cracking neck was heard as the demon crushed her beautiful neck, then, feeling it necessary, snapping it with its other hand. The demon smiled slightly in its deed as its spiked tail came from behind him and stabbed into her spine. It flicked her to the side easily, and she fell to the ground, its tail covered in her black blood as her body fell to the floor.

“Heh heh heh,” it laughed to itself, then looked to Mike.

“You have done well, Trious,” Mike told it, “You may now return to your sleep, my equal.”

Mike bowed to it, and it returned the bow, then dispelled itself as Mike smiled to himself.

“Maybe... I do still have a few friends,” he thought, acknowledging the demon was not very talkative. “Just maybe...”

He picked up the body of Sha'aktivay, looking around. Several pedestrians were looking at him oddly, and some were covering their eyes, but most just merely looked stunned. Her head bobbled around easily: there was clearly nothing holding it together any longer. He placed his once darkness-covered hand into the hole that Trious had created in her spine, covering his hand in blood, and then he proceeded to use it to paint a symbol on the ground. Upon completion, he placed Sha'aktivay's body in the middle of it, her head still covered by the cloak. The entire thing looked like a circle full of runes and designs, double lined and having an 'X' where he placed her body.

“Good Night... Sha'aktivay,” he said, then as his arm was eclipsed by darkness, he drove his hand into her and to the X under her as the entire street was encompassed in darkness. When it was gone, the blood of Sha'aktivay was gone, the memories of anyone there was cleansed of the time in which their battle took place, Mike was gone, and the only reminisce of him being there was a crack in the ground where his fist had failed him. The town known as “Scritabe” was totally ignorant of what had just taken course over the past several minutes.

The dark priest looked up. Just hours ago their leader, the only one they'd ever had, had ceased living. He looked down at the gathering below him. There were at least thirty people, at most fifty, all members of their happy little cult of darkness. Sha'aktivay had told him many times that this ceremony would be needed, but he'd doubted even she knew it would have been so soon.

He was currently in the darkest place of Scritabe, a place covered by the reminants of what once may have been a theme park, a tourist attraction. It was a place where no sun shined, a place of gloom and dark browns, the graveyard of Cotdo.

He looked down at them again. Some had left, unloyals only members because of Sha'aktivay's presence. They would be killed, he'd known, but that didn't matter now. He rose his arms, holding in hand the book that Sha'aktivay had given him, a book possibly containing the words of Satan himself, and spoke:

“Our unholy leader, The Great Sha'aktivay, has fallen. Her murderer is Mike, the heir of Fallacy, our traitor. Our scriptures and Sha'aktivay herself have warned of the death of our leader for some time, but none have would have predicted it so soon. Because of this, Sha'aktivay has picked several heirs to her placement, and they will be tested by her cleansed blood, to test if they are worthy, to test if they are loyal.”

He looked over at three challises as three robed figures stood up, each wearing an upside down black cross, each with their faces covered, and each holding a knife they'd created themselves, with their own names written on each with their own blood, blood that those knives drew. They walked toward the challises, removing their hoods before each taking one, holding it in their hands while their knives hung at their sides by simple threads. There, they waited, the ritual would soon begin.

“Each of these Challises are filled with the blood of Sha'aktivay!” the dark priest shouted, then looked to the three. “Shin, master of minds and one whom has never taken the drug of Satan, The Dark One Himself has given thee the permission to drink from the Mistress' soul. Do so now, following the great guidelines of the ritual of selection.”

The tallest one of the three, a man in his mid-twenties, with flaming red hair spiked backwards, took his knife, which on it read 'Shin', in his right hand, bringing it to his neck, then rose the challise to his mouth, and drank from it, almost seeming to enjoy it as he finished each sip. As he finished, the spirit of the fallen one rose from him, still cloaked. She looked at Shin, evaluating him once again.

“You, Shin, one loyal to Satan with your torn and tattered heart, are deemed worthy of taking my place. Whether this power will be yours alone or shared, I cannot promise you just yet, but you are worthy of leading with the unindulging evil of which I have led us with for years,” She said to him, then took his knife in hand. “Shall you ever betray me or Satan for any other idol or “God”, you shall die a most horrid death.”

She shoved the knife into Shin's chest, piercing where his heart would be, but blood was not drawn. Instead, the blade merely sunk through his skin, not damaging him, as Sha'aktivay's soul was sucked back into him, and the knife was soon no longer visible.

“Savath, merciless killer and one whom has never taken the drug of Satan, The Dark One Himself has given thee the permission to drink from the Mistress' soul. Do so now, following the great guidelines of the ritual of selection,” The dark priest said, perfectly repeating with the same tone and attitude as the first time.

The other male looked up, bringing the knife to his neck. He quickly sucked the drink down, throwing his knife into the ground as he did. His piercing white hair and marble skin seemed to wither and tighten around him as Sha'aktivays soul appeared.

“Savath... You are not worthy of drinking from me,” it said, “What have you been doing all these years, training to kill Satan himself? Your dreams and goals are not in Satan's interest. Die now, and forever miss the place you could have had,” her soul said.

Savath's knife rose up from the ground as Sha'aktivay's soul was sucked into it, then it flung itself at him, landing cleanly in the center of his neck. Blood sprayed out, even covering the last of Sha'aktivay's chosen, whom gripped her knife as if with greed as Savath's body twitched and fell to the floor. It grabbed her ankle, looking up to her.

“My... my... l...” Savath said to her, then his eyes dilated as he drew in his last breath.

“All today have witnessed what will happen to our traitors, all today know now what you can expect if you fail to meet the expectations of Satan,” The dark priest explained, then looked at the girl standing there. Her hair, like Mike's, was black, her skin like Marble. She had the same eyes of Sha'aktivay, but darker. Her interests were terrible, her purposes were terrible, and she... was the only Cotdo of Sha'aktivay's chosen. He shivered, as she was reborn only shortly after Mike, much younger than him at the time. He was there at her recruitment, at least six years ago, and he had witnessed her first intake. What kept her from repeating Mike's betrayal? But Sha'aktivay trusted her, trusted her more than any Cotdo.

“Kim... Child of The Dark One, He Himself has given thee the permission to drink from the Mistress' soul. Do so now, following the great guidelines of the ritual of selection,” he said, his uncertainty in his voice. He pondered how easily he had lost it, the shiver in his voice had taken over, something he was sure wouldn't happen, but it didn't matter, what was said was said.

She looked into the cup, watching the shimmer of the blood within it with her black eyes. It was red, unlike the black blood Sha'aktivay normally had. Had the silver been removed from it? Either way,she brought the knife to her neck, and sipped from the challise, taking in its taste. It was beautiful to her as she savored the flavor. Sha'aktivay's soul rose from the ground, looking at Kim.

“Kim, you who are unlike all of my chosen, one with more loyalty than I've ever seen, a Cotdo to the truest degree... will take my place with Shin as leader,” Sha'aktivay said, Kim's knife flowing to her hands, “but if you betray me or Satan, death shall befall you. Know this well.”

Sha'aktivay stabbed Kim's knife into Kim's heart, the thing doing the same as it did with Shin, sucking in and then disappearing, her sucking in with it. Kim grabbed her chest, cherishing it as tears poured down her eyes. Pain engulfed her suddenly as she knelt down, grasping herself for breath. Tears of black blood flowed down her eyes as she felt the skin in her back being stretched, her spine growing out new limbs, as bones and muscle broke out, quickly covering themselves in a leathery skin. Bat like wings were forming out of her as her fingernails grew thicker, sharper, like claws, and her mouth produced fangs. She began to laugh, at last freed from the cheat that was Humanity. She could kill them now, any of them, without fear of her own genes betraying her: She was no longer a member of that chain of disgust.

“Servants of The Dark One, look up upon our newest leaders, one of mind, one a newly born demoness,” The Dark Priest said, Kim's laughing and crying shrieks almost drowning him out. Almost, but not quite. One thing he knew, one thing that put him as a priest, was his powerful voice. “Witness her birth into Satan's inner circle, were we will all be, where we will be cherished in evil.”

Mike walked through the door to his home, a graffitied thing full of awkward moments. He wasn't popular, but he knew it anyways. He looked into his hallway. Torn, rodent crap all over the ground, as a muscular, small, gray mouse scurried by.

“Oh, home, I'm here!” he exclaimed, as he heard something large moving in the living room.

“Shoes?” he thought, looking down at his own torn boot. “Damn... reminders.”

He stepped in through his greeting hallway to find a girl there. Red eyed, and somewhat anorexic, she was sitting there on his couch, wiping her eyes. Her eyes were green, her skin unhealthy, and her hair long and unkempt, slightly curly, and brown, she looked around fourteen, Mike himself seventeen, if he remembered right. She was wearing simple jeans and a black t-shirt.

“You are?” he questioned, not honestly caring all that much.

“Uhm... er... Amy,” she replied.

“...Well, I'm Mike. Don't get in my way and I won't bother you.”

Mike began to walk off and then turned her head over to look at her again.

“If you need to talk, though, I could listen,” he said, then continued on.

He reached what could be called a kitchen, no perishable goods to be found, save a few fruits. He had no electricity, so therefore no fridge: How would he pay for it? But he did have a can opener, a few cans of food he stole, and crackers and ramen: Nutrition for those who don't really care.

He pulled out a package of Nissin Brand Beef Top Ramen. He opened it as he bent down to sit on the floor, cross legged. He pulled apart the wrapping, then took the packet of seasonings, tearing off the top of it, and sprinkling it over the dried noodles. He shook the noodle block, spreading out the seasonings, then took a bite, throwing the packaging into a garbage heap by the wall. Maybe later he'd clean it up, but for now, he was satisfied.

“Ah, does it feel good to be home,” he thought to himself, enjoying his ramen. The seasonings slightly hurt his mouth, but it tasted great to him. He almost smiled while eating it, proof of his enjoyment.

“Hey, Mike,” Amy's voice said from behind him.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Do you... live here?”

“Yeah.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“...Why?”

He shrugged, not bothering to think about it.

“Dunno, just do. I like my solitude.”

“Oh... What are you eating?”

“Ramen. You can have one if you want.”

“Eh... No thanks.”

She pulled up the only chair in the room, and old one that looked like it was rotting away, but could still support her weight. Mike watched her as she sat down, crunching on his ramen.

“You should eat something, you look about to die,” he advised her.

“No, really, I'm not hungry. Thanks, though.”

He stood up, grabbed an apple, and then through it to her. She, unexpectedly, caught it, almost dropping it.

“Trust me, eat it. I don't want to find a dead girl here tomorrow.”

“...Will you kick me out if I don't?”

“Nope.”

“Ah...” she said, taking a bite. It was an old apple, like the ones you'd find at a third rate high school, somewhat crisp, but soft, not that fresh crisp you'd get out of a good apple. It tasted alright, though, not too bad, and after a few seconds of silence, and a few bites later, she spoke again.

“Its late...”

“Yeah”

“Uh... is there anywhere I can sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“uhh?”

“You can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep on the couch.”

“Thanks.”

Mike took the last bite of his apple, then walked back to the living room, where he'd first seen Amy. There were tear drops on the side of it, but he ignored them, then plopped down, using his arm as a pillow.

“Hey, where's you room?” Amy said from the kitchen.

“There should be a hallway in there. Third door on the right. Don't open the first or second doors” he replied, then drifted to sleep.

Amy followed his instructions, finding that there were no doors on the left side of the hallway, and entered Mike's room. Surprisingly, the room wasn't as bad as the rest of the house, though it was eerily black and its window had been nailed shut. His bed was covered with a somewhat tattered blanket, but other than that, the room looked fine.

Amy laid herself down on the bed, finding it somewhat comfortable. A pillow was no where to be found, so she also used her arm as one, falling asleep on her chest...