Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Demoria ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

The dark. That was all Derek could see. That, and he could just barely make out some sort of distinctive something under his feet. But other than that, there was only the darkness.

 

Suddenly, within the darkness, there was movement. The Southerner couldn't much tell just what was moving, but, deciding he'd rather be safe than sorry in this mad world of chaos, he tucked himself into the corner, under the impression that if he made himself small enough, whatever it was out there wouldn't see him and would pass right by him without notice.

 

The thing moved again, closer this time, and Derek shrank down even smaller into his tiny little corner, which had become his momentary safe haven from this terrible beast that stalked the halls of wherever he was - he'd forgotten just what the place was called. He could hear its hoof-like feet dragging across the floor as it began to take a distinctive shape, and he shuddered as the thing came into view as it passed through the archway of the adjacent room on his left. Seven feet tall, two long, curling horns, mottled grey skin that sagged all over its bony frame, and a goat-like form that stood like a human, but half-walked like a beast. He'd read about such a beast only in books of the demonic kind, but he'd never actually seen for himself what this beast was like, nor had he ever hoped to. No, he would never hope to see such a thing, not while he had spent ten years as a devout Catholic and was still going strong, even if he did cross the line every once in a while.

 

The beast paused for a moment as it stood in the hallway, and Derek stilled his breath as he waited for the beast to pass. Ten long years he had spent devoted to the church, praying each and every day, burning incense to ward off the bad, hoping for good luck, and doing his everyday good deed, and yet it still came to this? Why? Why this, of all things? Why did he have to be confronted with this blasted creature at such a time? There was no answer from the hitherto-speaking conscience, or even a descending voice from the angels to guide him in this terrible situation. There was only him and that monster, and all he could do was remain silent, and hope for the best.

 

It walked further on on its bony hind legs, passing through the hallway almost soundlessly were it not for its dragging hooves. Once it passed through the archway into the next room, Derek breathed a sigh of relief. However, it was a moment too soon to be celebrating, for the thing heard him, doubled back into the room, and looked straight at him with yellow eyes. And as those three yellow eyes looked at him, the Catholic let out a sissy little scream of alarm. Hey, it was late at night, he'd seen one too many horror movies that evening, and his imagination was cavorting with his deliria and not helping at all. Could a person of stable intelligence really blame the poor soul?

 

Upon hearing his scream, the creature hissed viciously at the black-haired man, baring its blunt ugly teeth as it snarled at its soon-to-be victim. Derek whimpered, scampering to his feet as the thing approached him with fervor, but the only way to get past it was to run down the hall, and to run down the hall meant running right past the thing, which was out of the question for the Catholic. His only other option was to sit there and wait for the inevitable, and at this point, he would much rather run like bloody hell for the nearest window and jump the risky four stories down to safety (or to his painful doom, whichever came first) than sit there and wait for this thing. But panic stole over him as the goat-creature came closer, and he was for a moment unable to think in his delirious fear. In one quick moment, he feared for the worst, and his mind went over prayers of sorrows and regrets and well wishes to friends. The thing drew nearer, its yellow eyes glowing against its grey mottled skin.

 

And then he saw it—an opening to run for it, or at least to strike the damned critter. Summoning up his courage and bottling down and last-minute panic or fear, Derek raised his fist, clenching his teeth, and swung his right fist at the thing's face.

 

"Whoa—Hey, wait a minute!—Ow." The familiar voice of Derek's half-Spanish friend snapped the delirious man back to reality, and before his eyes, he saw the goat creature change into his friend Tony . . . who had a handful of fist in his face, and didn't look the least bit happy about it. The scenery in Derek's deliria also changed to reveal a simple apartment complex instead of the cathedral he had believed himself to be in, and he blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to a sudden change of light as Tony flipped on the light switch in the hall.

 

"Damn Derek . . . you sure do pack a punch when you're scared," Tony said with a wince as he rubbed his nearly-broken nose. The aforementioned Southerner only blinked as he pulled his hand away, looking quite confused, but then shook his head as everything came falling into place at once.

 

"So . . . you mean to tell me that I wasn't having to face the devil?" Derek asked, still confused and now half-weary with exhaustion for reasons he couldn't place. Several years ago, at the age of eighteen, he'd been deemed schizophrenic by his psychiatrist after an outbreak of his first series of hallucinations which had resulted in him running through the streets of his neighborhood in his swimming trunks like a loony after being plagued with seeing his swimming pool full of blood and corpses and a mix of other things. Several days later he was found cowering at Tony's house with the fear that someone he knew was going to die, and he refused to be taken to the hospital until his half-Spanish friend gently eased him out of the closet and told him that the men in white would take him to the happy farm and make everything better. Surprisingly, Derek had bought it, went to the mental ward, and was immediately put on medications once deemed "mentally unstable." Ever since then, the medications had been doing their job (supposedly), and Derek was currently staying at an apartment complex in Charleston with Tony to keep an eye on him. Thankfully, the company was likeable. Taking the required medication was another thing entirely.

 

"No, you weren't facing the devil, Dare. You've been here with me, and it's been only me that's been in this apartment with you," Tony said reassuringly as he led his Southern friend from the hall into the kitchen to have a look around. "See? No devil. Just you and me."

 

Derek glanced into the kitchen with Tony's guidance, blinking as the light switch was flipped on and the bright light flooded the room, chasing the shadows away. But despite the comforting, warm yellow glow of the lights filling the room, the ebon still seemed unconvinced. It wasn't every day that he had a hallucination—in fact, he only had them under certain conditions, such as when he was sick or something. But tonight, he had been afflicted by nothing and yet he had still had one of the weirdest and creepiest hallucinations of his life. And his medication was supposed to prevent that. This had happened to him before, and so had numerous other weird things that he couldn't explain properly that he couldn't get Tony to believe when he tried to explain them. It was as if there was something following him, attempting its best to make his life absolutely strange and unpredictable. Or worse yet, he might be cursed. Derek shuddered at the thought and shook it away.

 

Tony noticed the shivering and placed one hand on his friend's shoulder, turning the ebon towards him to look him in the eye. "Is everything all right, Dare?" the brunette asked with worry. He knew how his friend could get after a hallucination, as he had had to deal with it several times before. Any weird reactions or strange thoughts at this point would be completely orthodox for the half-Spaniard. Hell, he sometimes had to deal with it everyday, without the hallucinations.

 

"I-I'm fine," Derek stuttered, deliberately not looking at Tony as he spoke. In truth, he wasn't fine. He had in fact spooked himself into believing he was cursed, and was now waiting for something to jump out with a knife and stab him bloody while he wasn't looking, so he was looking around the room with shifty eyes for anything suspicious or out of place that might suddenly come alive and start growing knives out of its hairy back and throw them at him. However, nothing was in sight.

 

Not taking notice of his friend's obvious unnerved state, Tony said, "C'mon then, let's head back to bed. I'm sure that hallucination has made you sleepy, right?" Without an answer, he gently began tugging Derek back towards his bedroom, knowing that if he let the Southerner decide for himself what he wanted to do, they'd be staying up until the wee hours of the morning waiting for anything out of the ordinary to do something out of place, like a vase suddenly come walking into the living room on two Barbie legs. Or worse, the mysterious "devil-goat-thing" could show up again, for real this time. God only knows the damage that would do.

 

Derek was about to protest going to sleep when Tony turned on him and said, "Look, Derek. I know you're scared of the dark, and with good reason, but you'll never overcome that fear unless you face it. Now c'mon and let's go to bed."

 

"But—I—" Derek weakly began to protest, but then he hushed himself as Tony sternly looked him in the eye, and without another word (though rather grudgingly), he followed along behind his friend towards his bedroom, where he rather unwillingly settled into bed as he looked accusingly up into warm brown eyes, but still he said nothing.

 

"Now, you go to sleep. You have your first day back to work tomorrow at the bar, and you can't be sleeping on the job again because you didn't sleep well the night before because of these hallucinations," Tony said in a stern, gentle tone of voice. "Now, make sure you get some sleep in here, all right? I'll be right next door if you need me."

 

With that, Tony began to turn around and walk out the door, but before he could make it out he was stopped by the quiet, slightly scared voice of Derek, who was still sitting up in bed with the sheets only partially covering him and looking much like a little child who has just woken up from a bad dream and then gone back to bed after much coercing from his parents.

 

"Tony?" Derek said softly as he held his sheets to himself with one arm. Tony sighed, but nodded in acknowledgement.

 

"Yes, Dare?"

 

"What if these hallucinations are . . . y'know, real? What if they aren't just hallucinations? What if—" Derek was beginning to get frantic with fear at all the 'what if's, but before he could ask his third question, Tony gently shushed him by walking over and putting a finger over his friend's mouth. The effect was practically immediate; almost at once, Derek shushed again, looking up at Tony with a glare as he was silenced.

 

"Now, Derek," Tony began with a gentle smile, looking at his friend with kind brown eyes, "there's no way you're having 'premonitions' or whatever it was that that fake psychic called these hallucinations of yours. How many times do I have to tell you? Magic, demons, and all that, are not real. Okay?"

 

Derek looked down, doubting Tony's words, but not saying anything about his doubts. He'd often tried to tell his friend that his hallucinations were more than just simple hallucinations—that they were real and not just a result of his deliria, but Tony never believed him. But then, who could believe such a wild story as something like seeing a pool full of blood and corpses or the devil himself was real or some such nonsense? Maybe he really was mad, but just he didn't want to believe it himself.

 

"Hey, come on now, let's go to sleep, m'kay?" Tony said.

 

The Southerner finally looked up at his friend, his crystal blue eyes still full of unconvinced feelings that his hallucinations weren't real, but nonetheless he nodded once, turned so he was lying down, and covered himself comfortably with the sheets before tucking down to sleep. The brunette watched his ebon friend, smiling as he watched Derek tuck himself in, and then turned around and left out the door, headed for his own room to sleep for the night. Hopefully, he'd be able to actually sleep for the rest of the night.