Demon Diary Fan Fiction ❯ Acidic ❯ Vacation in Purgatory ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: Sorry I took so long to update! waves white flag timidly As I'm sure a few of you have already figured out, I'll be switching points of view each chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue; me no own, so you no sue!

x(X)x

Eclipse glanced warily over his shoulder, the reflexive movement soothing. He knew he was paranoid, but had long been beyond caring. After all, paranoid people were a lot less likely to end up dead.

Light from a lone streetlamp caught on the metal grommets of his shoes, causing them to shine like winking eyes. The eyes shut suddenly as he stepped under the awning of a nondescript apartment building, the pervasive shadows seeming to leap out and encompass his lanky form.

His footsteps were dully audible on the threadbare carpeting of the stairs. He found himself counting nonsensically: twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three... By the time he reached the top he had lost count, though he was unsure as to where.

He paused at the door, rifling in his pockets. A few moments of excavation found a gleaming key. He was just far enough from sober to imagine the jagged teeth of a ferocious metal beast feasting on the flesh of his hand. Shaking off the thought (which he now knew would bother him all night), he slid the “teeth” into the keyhole.

x(X)x

Consciousness was swift and brutal, and Eclipse groaned softly without parting his lids. “The hangover should be equivalent to the drunkenness,” he murmured, annoyed at the way his words slurred slightly. It wasn't a vomit hangover, but he felt rather like he'd spent several hours with his ears pressed against the speakers at Oz. Needless to say, it was not a good feeling.

Finally he opened his eyes, squinting at the light streaming in through the window. A cursory glance revealed that he had made it to the couch before passing out. The couch being approximately ten feet from the door, this was not very comforting. Of course, the fact that he had been awake for about fifteen seconds after the opening the door meant that he hadn't been bothered by the whole key thing. He considered this for a moment.

That wasn't very comforting either.

He hadn't meant to get drunk the night before. He'd gone to Oz with all intentions of staying sober, but the absence of the boy had disappointed him. When he was disappointed, he tended to get angry. And when he got angry, he had a tendency to drink alarming amounts of alcohol. Doing so left him with raging hangovers, which really didn't improve matters.

He was prepared to fall into a stupor once more, when a thought struck him. Yesterday was Sunday. Meaning today was Monday.

Shit.

x(X)x

Eclipse strode briskly down the hallway, eyes skimming the plastic plaques by each door. 305...306...307... On an impulse he halted, easily catching the words of a voice, nasal, dry, and very loud, emitting from the open door.

“Now I want you all to behave flawlessly, because we are extremely lucky to have today's visitor. Several years ago, he was one of five students to get a perfect score on the SATs. He was offered full scholarships to Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Penn, Columbia, Dartmouth, Brown, Cornell, and Duke...” He moaned inwardly. They were always so... puffed-up about it. Gathering his thoughts and blessing the icy shower/multiple aspirin that had restored some semblance of lucidity, he stepped into the room.

The teacher - Mrs. Caldwell, he reminded himself - refused to appear startled at his sudden entrance. “Class, I'd like to introduce Mr. Cimeries.”

“Eclipse,” he corrected quietly. “Mr. Cimeries is my father.” Studying the class, he thought they seemed overly shell-shocked, even for students preparing for the SATs. They were staring quite unabashedly, at least. He was unsure just what they were staring at. He had made sure to dress conservatively, in dark jeans and a collared burgundy shirt. His hair was tied back as neatly as possible, though a few stubborn strands fell in his face. And he knew his eyes were unusual, but it wasn't like he was an alien!

Then he caught a glance of his hands, and things began to make a little too much sense just a little too fast.

He was still wearing black nail polish.

x(X)x

Raenef tried vainly to become invisible as he neared the room. No luck. Jake saw him, reaching out and seizing his arm with ease. A wave of panic rolled over him, replaced all too quickly with resignation. The football player kept a vise-like grip on Raenef's wrist, leaning forward to whisper harshly in his ear. “What's wrong, faggot? Afraid of little ol' me?”

Raenef had never made any secret of the fact that he was gay. He didn't flaunt it, but he wasn't going to act like he had anything to be ashamed of, either. Aside from a few who openly supported him, the school mostly tried to ignore it; except for the occasional asshole such as Jake Houston. The fact that Raenef was rather effeminate had convinced Jake that he would be a good fuck. Besides, he was gay. He'd appreciate the attention.

Raenef had cured him of those illusions. In very loud and impolite words. In front of the entire cafeteria. Jake's pride had been wounded, causing him to make Raenef's life a living hell ever since. It had been over four months, and he still hadn't let up.

The grip on his wrist tightened, and Raenef knew it would leave livid bruises. Both boys jumped as they heard a pair of heels nearing, Jake releasing Raenef just before Mrs. Caldwell appeared in the hallway, holding an empty coffee mug. She gave them both disapproving looks. “You two are going to be late for class. Get in.” The pair didn't move. She uttered a long-suffering sigh. “Now.” Bustling off for more coffee, she gave them a pointed glance over her shoulder.

Raenef made sure Jake was several steps in front of him before entering. He was so wrapped in his own violent thoughts, however, that he didn't see the foot Jake stuck out until it was too late. Sprawled on the floor, he could hear several of Jake's goons join in a murmured chant with their leader. “Faggot, faggot, faggot...”

A shadow fell over him, and he tensed. Then an all-to-familiar voice rang out, scathingly sharp. “I would hate to think that in this day in age young adults might still be maltreated for their sexual orientation. I would be very wrong in that assumption, wouldn't I?”

Raenef heard vehement stammering of assent, and dared a glance up. Kneeling beside him, in full rock-god glory, was Eclipse. It took him a moment to realize that a pale hand was extended in his direction, and even less time to jerk away from it as though it were a snake curled before him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed under his breath. Eclipse's eyebrows arched. “Not quite a thank-you, but I'll take it.”

Raenef's face contorted with fury. “Thank you? All you're doing is proving that I can't take care of myself!” Eclipse looked startled at this. “But they know you can't take care of yourself. If they didn't they wouldn't be doing this. What you need is an intervention. Believe me, I know.”

Raenef's eyes rolled as he rose, unaided by Eclipse's still-extended hand. “Oh, so you're helping a kid in need, making sure I don't `have to go through what you did'? Well you can fuck off. I don't need your help or anyone else's.” Turning, he found his seat in the back, eyes boring into the cover of his textbook. He heard a sigh and the sound of footsteps as Eclipse went back to the front of the room.

The bell echoed in the stillness as Mrs. Caldwell came hurrying back in. Giving a quick glance to Eclipse, settled in a plastic chair in the corner, she indicated him with a breathless gesture. “This is our speaker, Eclipse Cimeries, who was one of the five students in the nation to achieve a perfect score on the SATs several years ago. He graduated from Princeton with a master's degree in political science in 2002. He'll be discussing SATs with you, as well as college, and hopefully his new career, which he has been surprisingly closed-mouthed about.”

The desire for revenge was impulsive, and Raenef had spoken before he could think about it. “He's a musician.”

Mrs. Caldwell looked delighted by this, and turned to Eclipse for confirmation. “And which orchestra are you playing with? Which composer? Forgive me for saying so, but you strike me as a violin. Am I right?”

The glare Eclipse directed at Raenef was so heated he nearly jumped. “Actually, I'm afraid I'm in a very different type of group. I'm the lead singer of a rock band named Demonic.” He waggled his black fingernails sardonically at Mrs. Caldwell as if to emphasize his point. Her face was priceless, blinking in disbelief.

He stood as if suddenly tired of the charade. “I see no point in discussing the SATs. No amount of pure studying will prepare you. It comes down to how intelligent you are or are not. College is a trap designed to distract you with frat parties and pretty lectures from the fact that your future is hanging by a thread, and that the real world is not as forgiving. As for my career,” he gave them a sarcastic smile that showed peculiarly sharp canines “Demonic plays last at Oz on Friday nights.”

He turned as if to go. Raenef felt the relief build in his chest. Then he spun around and stalked to the back of the room. Raenef nearly gasped from the electricity that seemed to embrace his skin as Eclipse grabbed his unbruised wrist, his hand an iron fist in a velvet glove.

“I'm afraid I have to borrow your student for a moment, Mrs. Caldwell. I promise to return him."

x(X)x

A/N: Cliffhanger!

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Leijhana tu'sai to all readers and reviewers! (and since someone finally asked... Leijhana tu'sai means “thank you” in Cheysuli.)