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Tainted
The Story Of Darkhurst
Chapter Eleven : The Puppet Show Begins
The game was started, and he would now move his pawn forward in the first turn of the game, even though he was the dark side of the board. The rules of chess did not mean much in such a dirty game as life. It was hardcore chess, so to speak, and anything goes; including using one of your own pieces to smash the living hell out of your opponents face. The demon would not return to the surface in mental or physical form for quite some time, but he didn't need to. Grayson's mind was in his virtual control and all he needed to do was send a mental message to the boy to tell him what he needed done.
Any hope of Joel breaking free was abandoned when he had embraced the alien thoughts in his head; and why not? Ogouferay had been at this long enough to know what bittersweet words to say, what buttons to press. Grayson was a classic case of despair. All the despair needed was an outlet for it's grief, and to transfer the grief to white hot rage and the mind was wet clay in the hands of the dark potter, and the potter had big plans in his mind as he spun the wheel and wrapped his taloned fingers about his raw work.
"Isn't it convenient how they found Brian and Blaine atop the tower while Gaznik was dead and unarmed..?" He had whispered. "You know what you are, and so are they... It would be easy to do what they did to your innocent sister..." At first Grayson had rejected these alien thoughts, with good reason. He knew Brian had loved Johanna, and Blaine too, in his own way. These rationalities were swiftly demolished as Ogouferay's breakdown of Grayson's logic continued. "Maybe they couldn't handle the great power that has been given to you, and it drove them insane..." And with that it was done. Yes, Joel had thought. Maybe.
Humans would always see him as a monster. A butcher, a fiend. Hellspawn. In reality, he was exactly as the metaphor described him. In his own twisted way, he was an artist. The potter of eternity, the psychotic painter of carnage and massacre, who has invisioned his masterpiece; a sick canvas smeared in gore. For now he would rest. His mind would be awake-as it always was-but his body and magic would refresh as he pulled the strings of the puppet Absorphan. He needed his energy for what came after. When Darkhurst and the rest were dead. He would be free yet, and when he was...
There would be blood. Oh so much.
"So what? Gaznik worshipped him? Did he believe he was a demon?" I asked, catching on.
"That's... The better option." Stewart said mysteriously and took a slurping drink from his milkshake.
"The other is?" Blaine pressed in frustration.
Stewart cleared his throat and addressed the book. "'Ogouferay, Grigori Inferni of Torment, is a twisted master of mentality. He can pull the strings of a troubled mind like the strings of a wooden puppet. All cases of true demonic possesion lead to Him, or agents of Him. Even in cases where a mind is too strong to be possessed, He may persuade, making the victim assume his tainted lies are their own thoughts.'"
We were silent. This statement was ridiculous of course. Or so we were jokingly thinking. Why would we believe that some mighty demon was possessing people in Darkhurst. More importantly, why would we want to believe that?! I had spent my entire life denying the existance of a Heaven or a Hell, and here was evidence before me. But no, Gaznik may have been in a cult, and this Absorphan, a student perhaps? Two 'demons' serving a nonexistant diety. It made sense. Hopefully these were the only two in this particular group. In the distance, breaking apart the reflection, the bell rang.
"Fuck." Anders groaned and pushed back his stool. He got to his feet slowly, without much enthusiasm to go back to school. He didn't have much motivation for school anymore. Football season was over, and yeah, we won the Tri County Championship, but we didn't have much competition. Darkford, Chatham Kent and Lambton weren't bursting with talent. The Darkhurst Demon's (An irony that was only beginning to take shape) last game had been against the Chatham Cougars. It had been only mildly close, Blaine being the MVP.
His heightened reflexes had widely attributed to that, there was no denying. Ryan and I had caught the game, and Stewart had written an article on it. It was alright, but pretty one-sided. Blaine never missed a pass, unless he was too far away. His eyesight and reflexes were twice an average humans, and when the ball came at him, it went straight into his hands and stayed there. He could run like the wind, and I think he got tackled once at the beginning of the down when he got passed to.
He moderated it though, took it a bit slow when he was doing too good and let the Cougars get a few points. In short, he made it entertaining and everyone cheered when Darkhurst took it. It had been a while since Darkhurst won much anything. Nonetheless, it was kind of empty for us, and even for Blaine. Everyone else was great, but it felt like cheating, us being what we were. Blaine admitted it to us that he felt the same.
Nonetheless, Anders was the center of the school's pride, and Jack got his picture in the paper. Blaine pretended to be pleased, and it was all good. "I'll see you jackholes later." Stewart waved us out as he enjoyed his beer. "Have fun." We nodded and filed into the winter wasteland. We could deal with the lates, I supposed, but in Grade 12 you didn't get as many strikes as 9 and 10. It was serious shit now, getting ready for the rest of our lives or something. Yeah, I know, I'm providing an excellent example.
I did up my leather jacket and shivered bitterly. Winter really was a bitch, because it snuck up on you. Though I was partly at blame. It was always easy to tell yourself it wasn't going to be that cold when your inside a warm restaurant tucking into some hot chocolate. Then you bitched yourself out when you finally went outside, as it was fucking freezing. Then you were too full of pride to really do anything about it. Sometimes I think being a man is more of a mental disorder than a gender.
We jogged back, which warmed things up a tiny bit, but not my face. Blaine kept us mildly distracted the whole time by adressing our situation. "So what do you think of this Ogouwhatthefuck business?" He breathed as we sped along. We kept a good speed, and weren't getting tired.
"I don't know." Ryan spoke up, and his voice sounded far away. "There is more to the world than we believe; we're living proof of that, but I'd like to think Gaznik found that book before we did and believed himself a servant of the demon."
"Yeah." I agreed simply. I did not tell them about the feeling in my gut that told me I was wrong. Oh so fucking wrong.
I rounded the corner, where me and a few other kids had our lockers, and saw something that made me forget Joel, forget the Tainted, and forget the fucking demon. Celine Porter had just finished tucking her English binder under her arm and turned towards me. Her brown eyes widened and her face looked as if every sorrow she had ever been through had never happened. The aforementioned binder tumbled forgotten to the floor and she launched herself at me like a guided missile.
I barely had time to brace myself before the impact, but I didn't mind. Her arms enclosed on me like a vice and I returned the hug as best I could. Blaine poked his head around the corner at the commotion before shaking his head and continuing to class. "Brian!" Celine yelled into my ear. "I haven't seen you in forever! Oh my God, I missed you!"
I couldn't help but laugh. "The feeling's mutual. Are you alright?" I took her by the shoulders and held her away from me. I tried to act like I was being firm, but really I just wanted to look into her eyes. Her face darkened for a moment at the memories, and the look faded before it could take hold. She nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm alive, aren't I?" She smiled and my heart melted. I hugged her again.
"Good." I said. Not much, but hell.
"Brian... Dr. Gaznik, I don't know how to say this, and it might have been the needle, but..." She trailed off.
"He wasn't human?" I finished. I couldn't see her face, as it was presently buried in my shoulder, but I felt her tense.
"Yeah." She said and drew away to look at me. "How did you-"
"We'll talk later." I cut her off. "For now I think our bountiful futures should concern us more. To class, Celine." I ruffled her hair, which was now a very striking blonde and black, and avoided her swat. We went our seperate ways, and then I turned back to her retreating figure. "Hey!" I yelled.
"Yes?" She smiled as she turned around to face me, and began walking backwards.
"Doing anything tonight?" I inquired.
"No, not really. Shall I come over?"
I shrugged. "I gotta move some stuff outta the old place, I thought we could hang out at the same time."
"Ah." She grinned deviously. "I'm trying to decide if you're asking me on a date or trying to get free labor." She had stopped at the intersection in the hallway and leaned against the corner.
I thought for a moment. "Both." I decided.
She laughed and turned around. "I'm in." Celine Porter dissapeared around the corner and her footsteps echoed down the hallway. I smiled and rounded my corner as well to see Blaine standing there smiling.
"Aww, Brian. That was straight out of a teen movie. Made me all warm and fuzzy inside." The blond giant breathed in a dramatic sigh and hugged his books to his chest.
"Yeah, yeah. Shaddup." I shoved him, which accomplished absolutely nothing at all, and we turned to go to our Law class. I suddenly halted, and my hand went to my head. A splitting pain suddenly formed at the front of my skull and I hissed in pain. Then a random thought entered my brain, from nowhere at all. The sheer spontaniety of the thought frightened me a bit.
What if you just left? The thought said, and I wondered. I could escpe this shitty town with all it's shackles and bars. It was a place I could never be my own... Leave it all. Is it worth it all, in the end? Is anything worth it all?
What the fuck are you thinking man? Another part of me asked. A part that seemed scared by the random thought, but not because of it's suggestion, but of it's source. I shook away these with, I have to admit, some effort. Everything I needed in my life was right fucking here. Friends who would stand by me regardless of their schedules. Blaine, Jack, Ryan and Joel. Not to mention my heart was locked within the confines of Darkhurst as well. Celine Porter.
As soon as the thoughts departed, so dd the headache, and my knees felt very weak. Whatever had just happened was not natural, but I could not put my finger upon it. "What the fuck, dude!?" Blaine inquired from beside me. He obviously noticed my distress.
"Nothing man, just feel a bit sick." I smiled and stood. I didn't want to say anything to Blaine, lest provoke an Anders Crusade. God knew there was enough of those going around, what with the leechy thing who tried to ingest my face last night.
Blaine surveyed me with 'The Anders', obviously trying to detect bullshit. I looked back at him, feigning confusion rather well.
"What, is my fly undone?" I checked.
Blaine broke out in a grin and shook his head. "Never mind, let's go."
"Mr. Anders, Mr. Darkhurst. You are very late. Do you have an explanation." Mrs. Saunders, in her monotonous dead voice, asked us.
"Why yes, actually." I said in what I assumed was a nerdy lawyer voice. I checked my wrist for a watch that wasn't there. "We were held up for lunch with the sexual assault defendant. Wouldn't stop whining about how he couldn't help him-" I was cut off by Blaine's elbow and a gasp from Saunders.
"Brian Darkhurst, that is sure as hell not funny! You are aware that Liza Saint has just joined this class! Never have I seen such callousness!" She roared. I had to admit, I was fucking lost.
"Uwah?" I managed. Then it clicked. Newspaper story about a girl who was saved from a rape by an unknown figure, which Blaine had fessed up too a few days ago when we were all trading Tainted stories. I realized how I may have sounded a bit callous by using a joke I thought was a bit funny. Just goes to show I guess. "Oh shit!" I exclaimed. "I am sorry, Mrs. Saunders, I had no clue!"
"Don't apologize to me Darkhurst." She sniffed.
I searched the room for Liza, and saw her pretty much directly in front of me in the corner. She didn;t look shattered about my comment, in fact, she looked more frustrated that the thing had been brought up. "Sorry Liza." I said, and meant it.
She fluttered her hand in front of her and didn't meet my eyes. "Forget it. It's fine. You didn't know."
Blaine coughed. "Can we uh, sit down?" He inquired, and the teacher nodded. We took our usual seats at the front, side by side. Blaine was beside Liza, whose desk used to be Tommy Raunchy's. You could tell by the many crude drawings which covered it. Tommy's graffiti was not without merit. There were numerous strange cartoons, which included cows, ducks with uzi's, strange furry things, and the caption 'Tommy's Love Desk'. He had carved these things with his compass, so erasing them proved impossible.
I couldn't help but smirk. It appeared Tommy would certainly live on in Darkhurst Composite. I was aware Blaine was speaking, and was surprised to find he was addressing Liza and not me. Luckily for him Saunders had vacated to photocopy some papers. "So what made you switch to law?" Anders asked her as he flipped his pencil expertly between his fingers.
"Well I wanted to take it originally, but the class was full until Hayes left. I was forced to take Chemistry." She shuddered and Blaine smiled.
"Not a science person?" He laughed.
She shook her head and I cut in. "That makes three of us then. Getting me and Blaine near sulphuric acid is never a good idea."
She laughed as well, and her laughter was nice, and refreshing. She must be one strong person, I thought. After what she went through. If I didn't know anything about Darkhurst and saw Desacross yank the head off of a guy, I'd be pretty fucked up. I couldn't help but smile. The way Blaine was looking at her; and the way she was looking back, made me think the ol' Anders might be forming a soft spot for her, surprising as that was. I couldn't remember Anders' ever making eyes at a girl like that. Mostly it was the girls who hung off him, not the other way around.
I was happy for him, and hoped something could come of that. Anders needed a girl. Also, he really needed to know what it was like to keep a secret from someone you cared about. It was harder than it looked, especially if the secret could get you tossed into a facility and have thousands of needles stuck in you. To be honest, you always heard about the U.S government doing shit like that, yet Canada's scares me more. Know why? Because you don't hear about that happening to anyone, when you know it must sometimes. It's that silence about that whole topic that frankly scares the shit out of me.
"Can I say something without sounding creepy?" I snapped back as I heard Liza address Blaine. Oh boy, I had to hear this one.
"Sure, I guess." Blaine responded, amusement and caution in his voice at the same time. I was ready to burst out laughing and was prepared for Blaine to turn quite red. I wasn't dissapointed.
"You have really nice eyes." Liza said shyly, and I exploded with laughter. Blaine simultaneously thanked her for the comment and pushed me out of my seat in the same instance. That did little to stop my howls of mirth, however. Blaine was smiling though, while blushing faintly. Nobody else would notice this. You had to know the Anders to recognize a blush. His complexion was slightly darker anyways, and it was hard to detect. Blaine's blush was pinpricks of red in his cheeks, but it was pretty funny when you caught him at it.
The rest of the day flew by for me, and nothing else is really noteworthy, unless of course you count it's sickening conclusion.
"It's nice." She smiled. "Too bad you couldn't keep it." She admired the hardwood floor and the cream colored walls that spanned the entrance-hall. A few old coats and stuff were in the closet, all mine. Uncle Harry had cleared my parents stuff out of the house, only alerting me after the fact, of course. Harry made a lot of assumptions about things he had no business assuming. It made an ass out of someone involved, and it certainly wasn't me.
"Well, if we want to get this done, it's all in the kitchen." I said and turned away from the closet to face her. "May as well get-" I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized she was directly in front of me. I dunno if this applies to everywhere, but most of my life the attractive girls have been much shorter than me. Such was not the case for Celine Porter. She may have been only an inch shorter, so when we stood face to face, I could stare directly ahead and into her eyes. It was a pretty nice view, I had to say.
I was at a loss to continue (Needless to say) and she spoke for me. "I think it can wait, Brian." She said, and stepped forward. Shyly, but surely. I almost stepped back myself. Not because I didn't want to be there, but because I really wasn't used to being this close to a girl like Celine. I held my ground and stepped forward myself, confused, disoriented and enthralled at the same time. The kiss was probably the best moment of my life. It wasn't some sloppy, deep, soap opera kiss, but it was a lip-to-lip, kind of embrace that lasted quite a while.
My arms were around her and I remember thinking about how everything was finally falling to place when the window smashed. Celine didn't scream, which surprised me. She only stepped back and let her eyes widen. I turned and saw who I expected to see. Ol' Absorphan, my comrade from the other night. He looked particularly pissed off this fine evening, and I couldn't say I blamed him. Blaine laid a good smack down on him, and I guess he was going to take out his anger on me.
Broken glass was spattered across the floor and the monster's glistening green body. Bits of black blood oozed from a few spots on him, but he didn't seem to mind. I didn't either. The more damage done to him beforehand, the less I needed to do myself. Yet I had a feeling that was a bit of a lie. The flame in his yellow eyes certainly didn't make him look like a damaged creature, and the sinew that rippled beneath his skin supported this idea. I had a bit of a situation here. One, I had Celine to worry about, and two, I couldn't let her know what I was, not yet. So with no defense whatsoever in the empty house where two people had been ripped to shreds, I raised my fists and hoped this would magically work out.
-Stewart