the devil's gift. {pg-13, original story.}

The snow fell steadily, freezing and cold to the touch. There was no light on in the dark street as the early morning's darkness fell over like a blanket over the sleeping city.

But, there was one person who was awake, and she was carrying a bundle of fabrics in her thin arms. Her breath clouded into a mist in the chilly air as she walked, cloaked in a long dark coat.

She turned and stepped up the couple of steps towards the entranceway to an orphanage. She glanced up and down the street and into the dark windows, making sure no one was watching her. Delicately, she placed her bundle down on the welcome mat, and it made a crying noise in displeasure. She made a cooing sound and stroked the small child inside, her fingers numb from the cold.

She placed her hand in an inside pocket of her coat and withdrew a letter, placing it on the child as it slept soundly despite the chilly night air.

From there, she blew a kiss to the baby and rang the doorbell two times, before scurrying away into the shadows, looking back for a minute to see what would happen.

A lady had answered the door, her brown hair beginning to gray from old age. She looked down at the child and hastily picked it up, taking the letter, and closing the door. The onlooking woman smiled and knew her work was done.

"Good luck, Taylor." She said underneath her breath and like that, vanished like a ghost into the night.




"Sweet dreams, Taylor." The little boy smiled up at his caretaker as she kissed him on the cheek, walking away from the bed he slept in and turned off the light.

"Can you keep the night light on? The monsters will come out if you don't." Taylor mumbled, curling up underneath the covers and giving his caretaker a pleading look.

She sighed, "Oh Taylor, you heard me, I already checked for monsters under your bed and there is nothing there."

Taylor made a whining noise, "Okay..." He then ducked his head underneath the sheets.

"Goodnight." The caretaker gave a smile and closed the door behind her as she walked out.

Taylor kept his ears pricked, listening intently for the music that would help him fall asleep. In a couple of minutes, he heard the music box from across his dorm and grinned, closing his eyes and trying to think of something happy to dream about.

The music box suddenly stopped though. Taylor opened his eyes again, the darkness of being under the covers surrounding him. That wasn't right, the music usually lasted longer. Maybe his caretaker hadn't winded it up enough.

He made a little moan of discomfort as he began to hear the scary noises of the night chorus around him. The wind howled outside from an oncoming storm. The rap of branch hitting the window beside Taylor's bed kept him from falling asleep. He tried covering his ears, but the noises were just muffled and didn't help at all. He began to squirm around in his bed, fidgeting and afraid that something was coming for him.

Suddenly, the window flew open, bringing the howling winds inside his room. He made a little screech and tore the covers off of him, running out of bed and desperately trying to shut the window panes. With great difficulty, he managed to push them back into place and latched them up, hoping it wouldn't open again.

He drew the curtains, and the silhouette of the tree branch outside looked just like the hand of a deadly witch, ready to open the doors, crawl inside, and kidnap Taylor, turning him into a frog. He whimpered like an abused dog and flopped face first into his pillow, trying to wipe the image of an old, creepy hag taking him away from the orphanage. This was his only home
.
However, the night only got scarier as the room was filled with an utter silence, a silence that made Taylor's skin crawl. This was just too unreal. Hesitantly, he withdrew his head from the pillow and looked around his room, freezing in place when he saw something he wished he had never laid eyes upon.

There were two, unblinking red eyes staring at him from the far corner of his room. He held in a gasp and stared right back at it, shivering up and down. The eyes never moved, never disappeared, and were unending. Gulping down his fear, Taylor tried to speak to it, but was interrupted and he made a flinch as the thing, whatever it was, talked to him.

"I'm coming for you..." It hissed, it's voice ringing in Taylor's ears. He couldn't take it anymore.

From his lungs, he released a bloodcurdling scream and began to desperately crawl underneath his covers, trying to wish the eyes and voice away.

The door was flung open, and his caretaker entered the room, flicking on the lights.

"Taylor, what's wrong!?" She demanded, worry making her voice crack.

Taylor pointed to the corner of his room with a shaking finger, "T-they're going t-to h-hurt me..." He stammered.

"There is nothing there, Taylor, it was just a nightmare."

"No! Don't you see it it's right-" Taylor crawled out from underneath his sheets and pointed at the corner, and was surprised when he saw that the eyes had vanished, "there..."

His caretaker walked up to his bed and gave him a hug, "It's okay, it was just a nightmare. Everything is going to be alright."

"But it was there! I saw it!" Taylor complained, struggling against his caretaker's embrace. She made a chuckle, "Oh, Taylor, monsters aren't real... And if they are, I promise that I will protect you from any of them. You can count on me."

"Really?"

"Really." His caretaker gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked out, wishing him another goodnight.

Taylor curled back into his sheets, feeling a little better, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that someone, or something, was out there somewhere, and was watching him.

Throughout the years as he grew from a little boy to a teenager, his fear of someone out to get him worsened. Although he stopped seeing the monsters eventually, he knew that out there, there was always somebody coming for him, and eventually he, she, or it would find him. He was never the same after that night.

And his jumpy attitude, his fear of people hurting him, made him a magnet for bullying in school. It began in fifth grade and chorused throughout him during his middle school years. He would come home, bawling his eyes out to his Deborah, his caretaker, and she would hug him and tell him that things would get better.

The bullying had taken it's toll on Taylor, though, who already had a fragile mind. It broke him to pieces, making him so scared that he would refuse to go outside some days because he was afraid to face his peers, who were all his enemies. He would sit alone in his room and cry, hoping for some kind of miracle. He hoped for a friend; a friend besides Deborah, a friend that would stick with him through the hard times.

As high school rolled around, everything began to fall into place.

This is the story of the Devil's Gift.




Taylor Duncan was never the kind of guy that liked to put up fights. In fact, he was deathly afraid of them. He was deathly afraid of everything.

He was just your average looking teenager; slightly taller than normal, and he was fairly skinny. Taylor had very messy and coarse blond hair that was slightly wavy in the front but curly in the back. It was cropped short and looked as neat as he could possibly muster it to be. His skin was pale from not being out in the sun a lot considering he never really liked to go outside. He had a rather narrow face, with his chin being slightly pointy. He had some acne spots here and there, most were on his cheeks. He wasn't what someone would consider handsome, but, if he really worked at it, he could steal a glance from a girl or two.

He warily cast a glance at the cafeteria table in front of him, taking note of the big and buff blond-haired boy who met his emerald green gaze with a death glare. He immediately looked back at his food tray and continued to eat his glob of meatloaf with small bites.

Just as he was about to swallow down his last bite, the bell called, saying that lunchtime was over and he got up and threw his tray away, quickly walking past the buff boy's table to throw it in the trash.

Just as he left the cafeteria with his class, he could feel the cold stare of the boy's baby blue eyes upon his back and he felt a shiver up his spine.


Back in class, Taylor busily wrote down notes as the teacher droned on about an algebraic equation. The rest of the class was fast asleep, and the only sound of a pencil scraping against paper was from Taylor's desk.

A yawn from behind nearly made him fall out of his chair, and in the process, he dropped his pencil. He groaned as he picked up the pencil and when he went to go take notes again, he forgot what the teacher had previously said. A bit angry, he faced the kid behind him and growled, "Thanks a lot."

The kid looked at him and just laughed, "I did you a favor. Stop being the smartass around here and be cool for once, nerd."

Taylor's face went red and the kid smiled a devilish smile. Feeling like an idiot, Taylor faced his paper again and just wrote down what the teacher said next.

"Can you quit with the noise...?" a kid mumbled a few desk rows over as her head lay flat on her desk; dyed pink hair splayed out on the wooden surface.

Taylor ignored her and continued to write.

Apparently, some other kids heard the noise as well and moaned as they awoke from their slumber. Someone threw a ball of paper at Taylor's head, another sent a paper airplane at his back.

One kid in the way back make a frustrated growl and cursed Taylor under his breath for awakening him from his "beauty rest."

Taylor could feel anger welling up in his stomach and chest. When would these kids learn to be mature and actually try to excel in school? Moreover, why were they always such jerks to him? What did he ever do to them? He wished he wasn't always so jumpy and afraid like he always was... That was mostly the reason why he was a laughingstock.

The bell rang and Taylor almost jumped ten feet in the air. The rest of the class laughed at him and gathered up their things.

Taylor slowly packed his things up, and looked at the teacher as if to ask if there was any homework.

"No homework. It's a Friday, remember?" The teacher replied with a shake of her head.

Taylor nodded and picked up his books and pens and went out into the school hallway. Immediately, he was greeted by the same boy from the cafeteria that sat in the table in front of him.

"Hey nerd, what's going on, huh? You got some free time after school?" He said, stuffing his hands in his ripped up faded blue denim jeans. His two buddies came up from behind him and snickered at Taylor. They had all sorts of piercings in their ears and streaks of yellow and red hair-dye in their scruffy brown hair. They were both rather big, one was heavier in weight than the other, and they stood beside the boy in front with their arms crossed like they were his bodyguards.

"What do you want, Joe?" Taylor asked with a deep frown.

"Oh, I just wanted to hang out with you today. I decided to stop being my usual jock self and maybe get to studying with you." Joe's voice seemed sour, but still had a ring of truth to it.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, "... And why should I trust you?"

Joe shrugged his large shoulders and gave a friendly smile, "People change, including me. C'mon, I just wanna be your buddy. You've never had friends before anyway."

He blinked, what Joe said was true. Taylor's fear melted away and he began to trust him; now was his chance to be apart of a friendship.

Taylor's frown went away, turning upside-down and he smiled back, "... Thanks Joe, I'll see you after sixth period then." With that, he walked off to his locker, Joe and his crew snickering behind him.


Sixth period came and went. Taylor walked out of his English class with his new book he got from the library in hand.

He went to his locker and put his book in his neon blue and white backpack with black straps and dragged it out of the locker. He walked out of the large, bright yellow front doors of the school and down the concrete steps. He scanned the crowd of teenagers that were coming out and spotted Joe and his friends sitting down at a park bench near the stairs to the school. Feeling excited that he made a new friend, Taylor gleefully walked toward them with a skip in his step.

"H-hey guys!" Taylor called rather awkwardly, now running towards them with a waving hand in the air. His feet suddenly caught in a crack on the concrete sidewalk and Taylor fell flat on his face with an "Oof..."

Joe's friends laughed at Taylor. Joe just smiled and walked over to Taylor, offering him a hand up.

"Thanks..." Taylor said as he stood up and dusted his soot gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans off.

Joe nodded as a "you're welcome" and he ushered Taylor over to his buddies who were now standing.

"So, where are we hanging out at?" Taylor asked, "Certainly not my place I hope, I do think you know I live in an orphanage home. It's bound to be pretty chaotic in there." He made a slight laugh in spite of himself, Joe's buddies exchanging looks of confusion with their bushy eyebrows raised as he did so.

Joe nodded again. "Yes we know, and we're just going to take a walk to the park today. Get to know each other, eh? The studying will begin tomorrow."

"OK, cool. Just make sure that I go early so I can get home before six. I want to finish my homework before the weekend."

Joe looked at his friends with a smirk and they laughed quietly to themselves, but Taylor disregarded these actions entirely, too excited about his knew friends to notice anything, "OK, we'll make sure of that." Joe's eyes narrowed, but he still looked kind with a smile on his face despite his rather aggressive posture.


Taylor, Joe, and his friends, Daniel and Noah, walked on the streets of their city, Manhattan. They headed towards the park, barely speaking if not at all. Taylor wondered why, Joe had said they wanted to know more about Taylor. Was he supposed to spark up a conversation? He was new to this whole friend thing. He never had a true friend before. The only person that came close to a friend, was his caretaker at the orphanage. The other kids there ignored him completely. It wasn't like the deal with school, it was just there was no one Taylor's age there for him to talk to; they were all younger than him. Probably the closest kid to his age was a ten-year old girl named Faith, but she considered Taylor too old and too ignored him along with the other kids. Besides, it was kind of weird for Taylor to be hanging out with a ten-year old in elementary school while he was a freshman in high school.

The thing was, Taylor was very shy. He was afraid of saying something stupid and his new friends would abandon him for his idiocy. He tried to think of a topic to talk about, but nothing came up, and he was left with this impulse hanging on his tongue.

Finally, Joe and his friends turned around to face Taylor, stopping abruptly as they did so. Taylor almost ran into them, but stopped himself.

"Hey, what gives? I thought we were heading to the park?"

Joe laughed, turning around to face him, "You aren't as smart as a I thought you were, Taylor. I thought you would know that we were lying the whole time."

Taylor could feel sweat fall down his brow, "You mean... You don't want to be my friend?"

"Of course we don't; we hate your goddamn guts." Joe and the others howled with laughter right in his face, watching Taylor's face grow sadder and sadder. Taylor began to back up, ready to get out of this place.

Just then, Joe tried to make an advance at Taylor, but he was off running in a second. He ran down the back streets, straight towards the orphanage which was his only sanctuary. He pushed past crowds of people, and was always fearfully looking behind his back to see if Joe and his lackeys were chasing him.

It was a couple blocks away that Taylor finally tired out and was left panting on a corner of a street, out of breath and winded from his flight.

He looked up and tried to figure out where he was. He felt fear well up in him as he realized he was in a place he had never been before. He was located on a darkened street, that was getting darker as the afternoon turned into dusk. All he could hear was the wind blowing softly, and the skitter of a newspaper skimming the ground, trying to take into the air from the breeze.

At once, Taylor felt betrayed and hurt. He couldn't believe he had fallen for Joe's tricks; he was just too gullible. What a fool he was. But then again, Taylor was desperate. He was so alone in the world. He had no friends or family, and felt as if the world had turned his back on him. Was he really supposed to be on Earth? If he died right now, would anyone even care? He was fifteen years old, never had friends, never been in a relationship; everyone he knew at school wasn't a virgin except for him, and they had girlfriends and boyfriends. A lot of people thought he was gay, or a devout Christian, and a lot of people made fun of him for this, too. His caretaker had always told him they were ignorant jerks and to ignore them but it was just too much. And ignoring them just made them taunt him more.

Taylor sighed and dug into his jeans pocket to grab his phone and call somebody at the orphanage to find and pick him up, but then a noise alerted him.

It sounded like a whisper, which Taylor quickly realized that there was words being formed.

The whisper spoke of the seven deadly sins, along with other evil things. Taylor was intrigued, he had never heard something like this before. At first, he thought it was his imagination playing tricks on him, but this was real.

He looked around, trying to locate where the sound was coming from. It whispered quietly with the wind from a dark and deserted alleyway a few feet from where Taylor stood. He walked towards it and called a cautious "Hello?" as he peeked into the alleyway.

Strange shadows danced off of the red brick walls that surrounded the narrow road. A large bin of stinking trash sat at the end which was where the sound was coming from. Flies danced around the other rank pieces of garbage, but they didn't dare touch this one, which was odd.

Feeling a sinking feeling of dread bubble up in his stomach, Taylor stepped towards the rubbish bin, and that's when things started to get really strange.

i lied, this one isn't long LOL. it would be longer, but i wanted to leave a cliffhanger :V

oh welllll.


It was immediate when it happened. Suddenly seeming like a harmless pile of trash, it was now something that would come from a nightmare.

Just as Taylor was about to open the trash bags and look inside for anything suspicious, he was blown back by a blast of oddly frigid flames and thick smoke.

Frozen in fear, Taylor looked up at the strange and frightening phenomenon before him. The flame and smoke twisted and formed into figures that reminded Taylor of demons. He saw people screaming in pain as they were being tortured by an unknown person.

Finally, he realized he was just laying flat on his back staring at something that was possibly deadly. He scampered up on his legs, grabbed his backpack that had fallen off from the blast and ran out of the alleyway. He ran out of the street, a mental map unfolding in his mind, telling him where to go.

In no time, he found himself back at his orphanage. He breathed a sigh of relief, while still remembering the strange thing he had seen. Should he tell his care owner about it? No, she would think he was crazy.

He entered the orphanage doors and was greeted by a plump old woman, who took his backpack and gave him a hug.

"How was school today, Taylor? I was getting worried when you didn't arrive at your usual time."

Taylor shook his head, "Horrible as usual. I was used by people I thought I could trust..."

The old woman, Deborah, gave him a pitied frown, "I'm sorry, baby, maybe tomorrow will be better."

Taylor snorted, "I doubt it." He took his backpack from her and headed upstairs toward his dorm. He didn't have a roommate yet, which made it worse.

In all of Taylor's fourteen years of living here, he had never been tried for adoption. Sure, he had interviews with a lot of people, but no one seemed to want him. He sighed, what if he never got out of here? He was almost eighteen, so he could go out on his own once he was eighteen. He didn't need a family.

But then again, Taylor felt his loneliness surround him and feeling defeated, he sat on his bed, took of his shoes and laid there. He didn't even get up to go to supper, and when Deborah came in and asked if he was hungry, he turned down the offer of food even if his stomach gave a deafening growl.

He sighed and pretty soon, he fell asleep.


Taylor was wandering around in a dark forest. He knew he was dreaming, but he wondered why he was here. Dreams will be dreams.

A sound could be heard from the bushes. He realized it was the same sound that he had heard from the alleyway. Scared, he ran away from it, but no matter how far he went, he could still hear it.

Suddenly, something could be seen ahead, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

There lay thousands of bodies of dead people, with their hearts ripped out of their chests and blood covering everything solid. The smell of death flew up Taylor's nose and he restrained himself from vomiting.

He heard a ripping sound of flesh and his eyes focused on a large, half canine, half ram figure that was greedily eating a corpse's heart out.

Taylor wanted to scream, but he felt paralyzed. The creature noticed him through his eating and swung his head to look straight at him.

Piercing, red as the blood that stained the ground, eyes looked into Taylor's light green ones. Pieces of the heart dripping down the creature's chest, it smiled at him.

Taylor wanted to move and run. Run away from this terrible forest. But he couldn't, he was still frozen in place.

The creature unfolded jet black, and disheveled wings from his back and gave a strange roar, that was a mixture of varied screams and a growls of predators. It then launched itself at Taylor.

Not being able to do anything, not even raise his hands up to protect his face, Taylor found himself on his back, facing the creature that had pinned him down.

But before the creature could give a killing bite to the neck, it whispered something in Taylor's ears, the voice sounding harsh and ancient.

"Meet me at the alleyway or you will end up like the poor people here."

With that, it and everything around it, disappeared and Taylor's eyes opened to see his familiar room.

He looked at the digital clock on his bedside table. It read "3:00 a.m"

Taylor shook his head and thought about the dream. He wanted to go back to the alleyway now, but then again, it was just a nightmare. But it was so vivid. Taylor actually felt as if he had been there.

He remembered the name of street that he saw on a sign when he was running out of the alleyway, and he fumbled through his backpack, looking for a pen and paper to write it down.

After writing it down, he laid back in his bed, wondering what the creature was and what it wanted from him.


Deep down, miles underneath the Earth's crust, there lay a figure, who continuously gnawed on a bone. He was canine in appearance, but had goat features. Red ram horns adorned his head and his back legs were that of ram hoofs. His legs were all black skeleton, and the jet black fur that clung to him, hung loosely off of his skin and bones figure. He waved his skeletal demon tail back and forth and his glowing, pupil-less, blood-red eyes stared at nothing ahead of him. His black and ragged angel wings were unfolded and continuously moving up and down, sending chilling air into his chamber, and to the other levels above.

No light shone in this cavern. It was dark and dank, and smelled like sulfur and death.

A slightly annoying scratching sound was coming from behind the fallen angel. He growled under his breath and whirled around to face the noise.

"Cassius!" He screamed and the scratching stopped.

A solemn canine face peeped from the darkness, and Cassius's master growled again, "When will you ever learn to not etch mustaches onto the frozen sinners?"

Cassius dipped his head, "Sorry, Lord Satan, I will resist."

There was a rumble from Satan's throat, "Good." He hissed.

He turned away from Cassius, "I need silence while I think..." He mumbled.

Cassius groaned, "Is it the boy again?"

"Yes, the boy. Don't moan at me, it is troubling that he is so scared of everything. I just hope that nightmare I sent him will work."

Cassius just nodded and seemed to melt into the shadows behind him, leaving Satan alone.

Beyond the shadows in front of him, Satan could see the other two betrayers, Brutus and Judas, sleeping soundly in a corner, their heads bleeding from Satan's constant chomping on the only flesh available in Cocytus, his lair.

"What a joy it would be to rule more than just the underground..." Satan mused to himself.


Taylor hurriedly ate his breakfast in the dining hall. He inhaled the bacon and eggs and swallowed his orange juice in one gulp.

"Hungry?" A boy that sat beside him asked.

Taylor just nodded, and got up from the table, asking if he could be excused.

After being excused, Taylor ran to his room, grabbed his coat, ran back downstairs and flew out the door. He was determined to find the street, even if it took him hours.


And it did take Taylor hours to find the street again. Already the sun was dipping below the horizon as twilight fell over. There had been many calls and texts from the orphanage on his phone, but he promised them he would be back before eight o'clock, which was curfew.

Finally, he arrived in the abandoned and blackened street. He stood around and waited, and in an instant, he heard the whispers. Sucking in his fear, and taking a deep breath, he went into the alleyway, and at once, the familiar trash cans that sat at the end burst unto flame and smoke.

Taylor stood his ground this time, and after the scenes of horror passed, he found himself staring at a pair of red eyes. He realized, these were the eyes that he had seen in his dream.

The thing inside spoke in that same, raspy voice. It boomed and echoed as the noise bounced off the buildings surrounding Taylor.

"Taylor Duncan... I have seen your heart, and I know your fears... You are all alone in the world, with no friends or family to help you... You are weak and pitiful, and require strength..."

Taylor tensed up, how did this thing know so much?

"Who are you?" Taylor shouted.

The flames seemed to intensify as the voice went on, "I am everything evil, I am every sin and every scrap of hate in the world. My name is Satan, the fallen angel once known as Lucifer. Lord of Hell; the fear of the holy, and the revelations of the sinners."

Taylor almost fainted. Satan, the rebellious fallen angel told in the Bible was real? Taylor didn't consider himself of any religion, and he never questioned the Bible, but now the truth was out. There really was a devil.

An eerie laugh flew into Taylor's ears as Satan continued on, "I know you crave strength and power..."

"What do you want from me?" Taylor interrupted.

"As I had said... You want power... You want to be known at school as not the loser, but the winner. The most cool kid on the face of the Earth. You crave acceptance from your peers... I have since watched you as a small child and I have felt your pain... You are just like me, craving power and having the world only grant you a turn of trust. From my small amount of pity I have for you, I have decided to share you my power... So you can witness the true feeling of being a king. You will fear no more, and I will guide you as a guardian and friend in every step you take..."

Friend? The word echoed in Taylor's mind. Lord of the Underworld, as a friend? And power... Satan was right, he did want acceptance. He did want to be powerful, and have pride in himself.

"Well? Will you accept my humble gift of immense power, or run away, and continue to be the loser you are known for?" Satan pressed. He then held out a skeletal, and blackened wolf paw, "Take my hand... I will show you the way."

Taylor gritted his teeth, and looking at Satan straight in the eye, he said, "I will accept."

Satan smiled and stretched out his appendage further. Taylor closed his eyes, and grabbed the paw.

At once, flaring pain welled up inside him, and he screamed out in agony. Beyond his screams, he could hear Satan laughing, "Such wonderful screams! Dearest Taylor, you will feel my pain, you will feel my anger at the ones who let me fall, you will be me! You will fall from grace!"

The pain was so great, Taylor could hardly scream anymore. He wondered if anybody heard him, if anybody would come and help him. But he was alone as always.

But I won't be alone anymore... He thought.

Fire blazed all around him, in the buildings, out on the street. Taylor didn't notice, but he did notice the large amount of anger swelling up inside him. It came from nowhere, but Taylor expected it was Satan's anger, and he was sharing it with him.

The agony continued on, and Taylor could feel himself getting faint. Just before he could take it no longer, he heard Satan's voice again, "You are mine..."

Then he saw no more.

:V i feel like i rush things too much LOL. damn you guys don't even know what taylor looks like besides having green eyes. i'll add something about his hair in the next chapter, but i know you guys already have some kind of image of him in your head.

and yes, for those who have read dante's inferno, i have depicted satan's lair in how it's described in dante's inferno. :P

sorry for the extremely long wait for the next chapter! some things popped up in my private life and i didn't get around to writing the third chapter until now.


Wherever Taylor was, he certainly was not longer in the alleyway. The minute his mind had gone blank from passing out, he found himself, in a bright place where a beautiful valley was laid out in front of him. He was wearing a white robe and he felt as light as air.

He ran through the valley, a sense of calm washing over him, and somewhere beyond the mountains that surrounded the valley a harmonic sound of a chorus, flutes, and violins filled the holy air.

Taylor closed his eyes as he pranced around like a ballerina on pirouette. He felt so alive and calm... Peaceful. Something he never thought he would feel before. Before he knew it, he felt gentle snow flakes fall on his cheeks and he continued to dance in the winter flurry. He hummed along with the song, as church bells joined the music, chiming on rhythm and ringing in Taylor's ears.

Is this Heaven? He asked himself, the smile that stretched the wrinkles on his face widening.

But suddenly, the feeling of peace was over, as the song suddenly sounded darker, an organ beginning to play in the background. It sounded like Taylor was in Dracula's lair. The snow stopped falling and around him he could see the valley and the mountains disappear in thick black smoke that slowly moved towards him. He looked down and saw a wide and black hole forming underneath his feet. He didn't fall into it though, he just stayed in place.

He stayed in place for a reason, as he couldn't move. A sense of panic overwhelmed calm and the shadows that were slowly gathering enveloped his feet, legs, arms, then torso until all that was left was his head.

The song got distorted and freaky, and slowed down as it got lower in pitch. Just as Taylor was about to disappear from this strange world, a voice whispered in his ear. It wasn't Satan's voice, it wasn't of anybody he knew.

"What a fool..."

And Taylor saw nothingness once more.


Something wasn't right. Taylor could feel it the instance he woke up.

First off, there was a sudden change in his mood. He didn't feel the instant panic or fear of everything as he always had, instead, he felt something completely different. Anger.

In fact, he had never felt as angry as he had now. He felt like a bull being taunted by a bullfighter, and he hated it.

Second, he felt like there was someone else crammed in his head, sharing thoughts with him. In an instance he was consciously aware of this someone, a voice rang in his ears.

"Welcome to your first taste of wrath. No refunds or exceptions. Does it feel good?"
The voice was familiar, and Taylor instantly responded, "Satan? Is that you?"

A chuckle, "Of course it's me! Because you now share my power, you share the power to contact me through telepathy. I'm always available, so call me whenever. I may pop in from time to time as well."

Taylor no longer felt alone as Satan said he was always available. Satan was like no other friend in the world, probably. A human friend would always have a time when they were busy, but Taylor could talk to Satan any time he wanted! That was great! Who cares if Satan was evil, Taylor shared his power and he was his first true friend. That was all that mattered.

The third thing that Taylor noticed was that when he got up off the ground, and checked his head to make sure he had no injuries, his once wavy blond hair was straight and shaggy, and it wasn't blond anymore. As Taylor looked at a few pieces of fallen glass that lay on the ground, he realized his hair was now jet-black.

Oh crap... How am I going to explain this to Deborah? She hates it when the kids at the orphanage change their hair-style and dye it... What am I going to do? Taylor thought, a little bit on the edgy side.

Still lightheaded from his faint, Taylor walked out of the alleyway, no longer looking fearfully behind his back. He kicked the stones that got in his way. He felt a surge of pride, he had power now. How on Earth he would use it, he had no clue. But at least he could defend himself from a bully's attack for once.

Looking up, he realized that the stars were high in the sky. He checked his watch on his wrist. It read "8:30 P.M"

"Damn, I'm already late for dinner..." Taylor told himself and he picked up his pace, running for his home.


The minute he walked into the front doors of the orphanage, he was greeted by a tight and warm hug from Deborah. While his breath was being crushed out of his lungs, he gasped, "S-sorry... I'm... Late..."

Deborah realized she was choking Taylor and let go of him, "I was about the call the police! Where were you, young man?" After she demanded this, her eyes caught the look of his hair and she drew in a breath.

"Did you... Get your hair styled without my permission?" She crossed her hands across her chest and gave Taylor a "you're-in-so-much-trouble-right-now" glare.

Taylor made a huff, "It's not my fault! I..." He quickly thought of a lie out of the top of his head, which was something he would never normally do, "I was met by some people from school, and they told me to follow them, so I did, and they took me to an alleyway and beat me up! I guess when I got knocked out they dyed my hair..."

"... And straightened it?" Deborah asked, not believing Taylor's story.

"It's true, I swear! I didn't do it! I didn't have my wallet with me in the first place, where would I have gotten a haircut and style for free?"

"Good point..." Deborah mumbled. With a beady eye, however, she gave Taylor a very sour frown, "I'm watching you, though..."

Taylor watched her as she walked away, and right before he went into the dining hall to eat supper, he said out loud, "The hair isn't permanent is it?"

Satan's voice whispered back, "Can't promise that."

Taylor groaned.


"The plan is going exactly as I wanted..." Satan mumbled to himself quietly.

Other than the continuous flap of his wings, Satan could hear Judas and Cassius laughing at something.

"What the **** are they laughing about?" Satan said out loud to himself. Whirling around and stalking over to the noise, he saw Cassisus and Judas laughing at something frozen in the ice. In the ice, there always had been the worst sinners frozen there.

"What's going on?" Satan asked, pushing past Cassius and Judas to see Brutus who had his long, pointed demon tongue stuck on a frozen cube of ice that held a sinner.

Satan twitched a bit. Cassius and Judas just continued to roll on the ground laughing. With a deafening roar of anger, he grabbed Brutus's hindquarters, and with brute force, ripped his tongue clean out of his mouth and threw him across the cavern.

Cassius and Judas looked up as they heard Satan, and continued to laugh as they saw poor Brutus being flung across the room.

Satan faced them and barked in their faces, at once, they scampered away with pitiful whimpers and cowered beside Brutus, who's mouth was still bleeding from his recent tongue removal. But, Brutus's tongue had already grown straight back.

Like Satan, the three betrayers were also part canine and part ram. It was a common trait with the four of them, as they were related in a way.

"Enough fooling around! This is the deepest level of Hell, do you expect there to be fun and games down here? Do you want me to continue chewing you guys's heads off?"

All three looked at Satan, scared out of their wits.

"I didn't think so!" Satan cried and turned his back against them, laying down on the ground and letting his thoughts wander mindlessly around his demonic head.


Taylor yawned. Morning sunlight crept into his bedside window and he blinked the sleep away from his eyes. Sitting him, a sudden spark of pain flared up in his back. He made a shout and gritted his teeth. It hurt really bad.

He looked at his bed, wondering if he had accidentally slept on something hard. After dinner, he had ran straight up to his room and fell asleep, not mindful of anything that was on his bed.

Taylor saw something different though. Scarlet stains had blossomed on his white sheets, and he immediately became aware that this was blood.

Worry flared in his stomach, and he hopped out of bed, running down the hall to the bathroom. Once he was there, he took off his shirt that he had slept in and examined his back.

Taylor really did almost keel over when he saw what caused his back so much pain.

Beyond the blood from two open wounds on his back, Taylor saw black feathers peeping out from within.

His mouth open in shock, Taylor screamed, "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?"

In an instant, he began to freak out, and he could hear someone come up the stairs as he continued to observe his strange new feathers.

A voice popped in his head, "Surprised? Because you share my power, you will also share my features too. You will grow large black angel wings like mine. You will grow red ram horns out of the top of your head. You will have a demon tail, and you will have sharp teeth and claws."

"Will I have ram hoofs as well?" Taylor asked, remembering those depictions of Satan with hoofs as back legs.

Satan laughed, "No. I'm not sure why, but I know you won't have hoofs."

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't even want to know how painful that would be to have hoofs.

"Wait a minute, how the hell will I be able to hide these features? Everyone at school and here will think I'm some sort of freak."

"Not to despair, my friend, you can hide your features. As long as you don't lose control of your power, your features will cease to exist, and they will only flare up if you are angered, or in trouble."

"What other powers do I possess besides my features?"

"Well, you will have the power to control and cause fires. Plus, you will have immense strength, and if you get wounded, your wounds will heal faster than most human being's wounds."

"That's pretty badass..." Taylor mumbled, a smirk on his face.

He could just imagine Satan smiling as he went on, "Precisely..."

Taking a Kleenex from inside the bathroom cupboard, Taylor wiped up the blood that was trickling down his back.

"Satan..." Taylor called,

"Yes, friend?"

Taylor smiled about the "friend" thing and continued on, "What do you look like? Are you human? I mean, in my dream I think I saw you, but you were a wolf, and I thought that was just my dream-self and how it imagines you." In truth, Taylor really was curious about Satan's appearance. In the alleyway, all he saw as Satan was smoke and fire. He had to have some sort of figure.

"Would you like to see?"

"Huh?"

Before Taylor knew it, he found himself being whisked off to some place far underneath the Earth. He knew this, because when he was on solid ground again, the pressure had definitely changed, and he felt as if a load of it was above him.

And wherever he was underground, it was cold, Antarctica cold. He crossed his hands over his chest and shivered violently, teeth chattering. It was noticeable that this was the only sound he heard in the dark cavern.

"S-satan?" He called into the darkness.

"Who's there?" A voice replied. He whirled around and saw three canine figures slinking towards him, their movements secretive and cat-like.

"Look what the master dragged in... Some fresh meat..." Spoke the figure in the middle, licking his chops.

The figure on the left laughed insanely, slobber and foam from his gaping mouth spraying all over the ground, "Fresh meat! Hehehe!" He yelled.

"Who are you?" Taylor asked, backing up as the figures moved closer.

The one in the middle looked to his left, "This is Judas," then looked to the right at the seemingly retarded canine who's tongue lolled at the side of his mouth, and his eyes were bulged and crossed, "This sad mutt right here is Brutus."

He then faced Taylor straight on, "And I'm Cassius."

And then in unison, they said, "And we are the Three Betrayers." Brutus made another insane laugh after they spoke and they all began to growl and look at Taylor, trying to figure out which of his body parts were the juiciest.

"Stop." A familiar voice behind Taylor said.

"Lord Satan!" Cassius gasped, and the rest of his group scrambled behind him.

Taylor looked behind him, "Satan!" He cried and for the first time, he caught a glimpse of the Lord of Hell.

It was just like Taylor imagined him in his dream, only bigger and a bit more disheveled. His skin hang loosely from his chest, and some the his bones on his body stuck out of his black fur. A bony demon's tail swayed behind him, and his intestines were visible and protruded out of his abdomen, leaking blood and gore.

"You will not mess with this human." Satan continued towards the Three Betrayers, "He is a friend."

Cassius and the rest gasped, "It's the boy."

They all moved forward, not in advancement, but in awe. Cassius approached him and bowed his head deeply in front of Taylor.

"Please forgive me... Second master... I shall now kiss the ground you walk on." Cassius then started licking the ground near Taylor's feet.

Taylor made a disgusted face, and, out of instinct, kicked Cassius's face away. He expected Satan to yell at him, but he laughed at Taylor's movement instead in a friendly way as if to say that was the right thing to do.

Cassius made a slight whimper and drew back, "Terribly sorry, sire... I will make up for my actions... Forgive me..." He said, head still bowed.

"So pitiful..." Taylor murmured. Satan seemed to overhear and nodded at Taylor's answer.

"Pesky little shits, they are. They are under my control now... I feel like I'm babysitting more than keeping them as companions."

Taylor nodded, "So, this is where you live?"

"Yes. It's called Cocytus, and is the deepest level of Hell."

"This is Hell? I-it's p-pretty c-cold."

"Well, sinners here are frozen for eternity. Generally they're people like... Eh, let's say Adolf Hitler. Betrayers of country, family, dictators, you get the deal."

"I see..." Taylor said, "I think I'm going to go back now. I don't really have much to do and... I-I'm f-freezing m-my n-nuts o-off."

Satan smiled, but his smile wasn't friendly at all, it was sadistic and cruel. But he spoke friendly anyway, Taylor guessed this was how he always smiled, after all he was the Lord of Hell.

"Alright then, you can talk or visit me any time you want."

"Thanks." Taylor said and he was yet again whisked off, but he landed back in his bathroom in the orphanage. It was apparent after looking at the clock that sat on the white tile walls of the bathroom, that no time had passed from his visit.

There was a knock on the door. It was Deborah.

"Taylor? I heard you yell. Is everything alright?"

"It's fine!" Taylor assured her.

"OK... Just to remind you, you do have a doctor's appointment in thirty minutes, I suggest you get ready."

A doctor's appointment!? I completely forgot about that! How am I supposed to hide my feathers when they aren't fully grown out yet and are still wounds?

"Satan!" Taylor hissed.

"Yes?" came the familiar reply.

"I have a doctor's appointment today, and I don't want the doctor seeing my wing wounds. Am I able to hide them somehow?"

"If you have an extra pair of skin lying around. Otherwise, you can't."

"Oh God... How am I supposed to explain feathers coming out of my back?"

"Can't help you there." Satan said, and the link between them was broken.

Taylor made an exasperated sigh and headed back into his room, changing into some day clothes. He then walked downstairs and towards the play area, a room where the little children played with toys and interacted with each other. Deborah was generally found here, playing with any of the kids that were alone. The bond between Taylor and Deborah was caused by this. Whenever Taylor went into the play area as a toddler, he was always alone and Deborah was the one that comforted and played with him.

He walked in and was bombarded with a toy tractor that a little boy had thrown carelessly. It hit Taylor in the chest, and it bounced back off, as if his skin was made of rubber.

Weird... Taylor thought to himself, but he expected this was some kind of addition to his powers.

Deborah noticed him at once. She had a crying girl on her shoulder. Taylor walked over to her, "I guess you're not taking me? You seem a little full here..."

Deborah made a stressful sigh, "Oh yes. Julie's taking you instead."

"Oh, OK." Taylor remembered Julie, the Taiwanese young lady who was in her mid-30's and very short for her age.

He then looked at the weeping girl, "What happened to her?" He asked.

"Oh, little Susie here tripped and fell on a stray toy. She's feeling better now I think."

"Poor thing. Hey, you OK?" Taylor said and patted Susie on her arm.

She looked up and once she saw Taylor's face, her eyes widened and she buried her head in Deborah's shoulder again.

"Scary man! Go away!" She shouted.

Deborah looked at Taylor, then at Susie, "Scary? It's just Taylor, sweetheart. He's not going to hurt you."

Susie made a noise of protest and Taylor gave her an odd look, "Was she abused or something?" He asked.

Deborah shook her head, her face scrunched up in question as she wondered why Susie reacted that way towards Taylor.

"Sometimes children can see the true form of ghosts and demons. In your case, Susie saw your demon-like features and got scared. This is common for little kids, as they have active imaginations and believe in more things than what an adult or adolescence would. Generally, as they age, they stop believing and don't see surreal things anymore." Satan spoke up in his brain.

Taylor nodded. He remembered when he was a child, he would sometimes see things out of the ordinary at night. Such as spirits, or strange phenomenons. Deborah and the rest of the adults at the orphanage had told him it was just his imagination, and that he shouldn't worry. Taylor ended up believing the adults and stopped seeing these monsters.

"Well, I'll go get Julie now and leave you with the kids. Hope you get them under control." Taylor told Deborah and left the room.

Apparently, Julie was waiting for him all along, and he almost bumped into her.

"Hey Taylor! Ready for you appointment?"

Taylor nodded and Julie walked with him to the parking lot on the side of the orphanage, heading out the front door and going out to the side. They took the orphanage's vans that carried the children to wherever they needed to go. Mostly they walked, though.

On the drive there, Taylor sat in the front seat, watching gloomily at the cars that passed. The feeling of dread at what the doctor would discover worsened as they got closer to the clinic.

"Are you OK?" Julie asked, noticing the way Taylor sat, sagging deeper in the leather car seat.

"I'm fine, I'm just a little scared of doctor's visits."

"Do you want me to go in there with you?"

"No! Like I said, I'm fine." Taylor protested, his cheeks tainted a soft pink.

Julie laughed and her silky black hair moved with her head as she giggled.

Taylor made a snort and continued to stare out the window, looking at the clear blue sky above him.


Taylor and Julie arrived safely to the clinic and as Taylor sat in the waiting room, he could feel the warm and scared eyes of a little boy burning into him. As Satan had said, this boy was clearly looking at Taylor's true form.

Fidgeting restlessly under the boy's stare, he looked back at the boy and he quickly turned around and began to tug his mother's cherry red sweater.

"Mommy, mommy! That boy scares me!" He told her, pointing a chubby little toddler finger at Taylor's face.

"Jack, that's rude! And, don't point, that's rude as well." She whispered to him sternly, and forced his arm back down at his side.

Julie didn't seem to notice the ordeal about Taylor's appearance to the little boy named Jack, and she continued to hum quietly to herself as she read a gossip magazine from the table next to her plush chair.

Finally, the nurse walked out of the office area and called Taylor's full name. He stood up and Julie gave one last glance at him, "Are you sure you don't need me in there?" She asked.

"I'm fine. Really." Taylor hastily replied, that same pink tint of embarrassment coming back to his cheeks.

He followed the nurse down the hallway and into an examination room. He sat down on the cot that was covered with paper and waited patiently. He twiddled his thumbs nervously, then began to bite the nails on his thumb. What would the doctor say? How could he conceal the evidence in a minute's notice? The doctor could walk right through the door right now.

He got up and paced the room, trying to think of a scapegoat. Right before he was about to not take it anymore and just run out of the room, the doctor came in, a clipboard and pen in his hand. He looked stern looking, and his brow was furrowed as he looked Taylor up and down.

"It's been a busy day for me, so sorry if I come off as rash." The doctor said glumly in his Manhattan accent, "Sit." He ordered next and Taylor quickly sat back on the cot.

As the doctor examined his ears, Taylor looked over and read the name tag on his scrub. "Dr. Riley," it read.

Dr. Riley then looked into Taylor's eyes, watching his pupils dilate and shrink. "... Interesting..." He suddenly said and stopped flashing the light on his doctor's equipment.

"What's interesting?" Taylor asked, curious.

"Your pupils seem to shrink into slits when contacted with light, just like a cat's. Are you wearing some of those fancy contacts the kids always wear these days?"

Taylor's heart began to race, "Uh... Yeah." He stammered.

Dr. Riley narrowed his eyes and continued on, testing Taylor's reflexes with a doctor's hammer.

He hit Taylor right below the knee cap, and Taylor's leg shot up a little too far, hitting the crouching doctor square in the nose.

Dr. Riley yelled in pain and grabbed his nose. Taylor noticed it was bleeding and possibly broken. He began to blush and apologized at once, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that!"

"It's OK..." The doctor mumbled, and grabbed a tissue from the counter on the opposite side of the cot. He dabbed his nose to get rid of the blood and continued on with his work, a small trickle of scarlet liquid still left behind underneath his left nostril.

Next, he checked Taylor's heartbeat and then he felt around Taylor's arms and chest.

"Just checking for tumors and the like." He reassured. Finally, he passed his hands over Taylor's back, and just when he bumped up against the wing wounds, a look of concern flashed over his face. He drew back.

"That's very odd... Take off your shirt, I need to look at your back."

"I prefer to keep it on, thank you." Taylor retorted.

Dr. Riley sighed, "Look, kid, I don't care about the size of your muscles, I just need to check out something I felt on your back. This is for your own good. We can do it the easy way, or the hard way."

Feeling reluctant, Taylor hesitantly pulled off his shirt and let the doctor examine his back.

The doctor peered behind at his back and flew back in shock, making a startled noise in his throat.

Taylor's heart leaped, "What's wrong?" He asked, even though he already knew what Dr. Riley saw.

"Excuse my language but... What the **** did you do to your back? There's dried blood all over these circular wounds, and they're parallel to each other. What kind of wounds are those? And were those feathers I saw in the injuries?"

Taylor could feel sweat drip down his forehead as he looked back at Dr. Riley, "Ah... Um... Er..." He stammered.

Satan, what do I do? He asked Satan quietly.

"Tell him you're an angel or something."

"OK. Um... I don't know how to say this... But please don't tell anybody what I'm about to tell you."

"OK...?" The doctor mumbled, raising an eyebrow.

"I... I'm an angel."

"... That's nice kid. No, seriously, what the hell is that on your back?"

"It's true! I'm part angel, and I'm growing my wings! How the hell else would you explain that on my back?"

Dr. Riley looked at Taylor up and down as he had done when he first saw him, "Alright, I believe you. Whatever. At least it's not a tumor or anything."

"Thank you..." Taylor mumbled and put his shirt back on.

That was it for the physical examination, and Taylor had no shots to receive, so the doctor let him out. He greeted Julie in the waiting room and they went back in the van to the orphanage.

"I'm healthy." Taylor said as he was greeted at the door by Deborah when they got back.

Deborah smiled and Taylor walked back up to his room. For the rest of the day, he read some of his library book and did his homework. Afterwards, he went on the laptop in his room that sat on a desk in the corner and got on the Internet, checking his Facebook as he did so. He made another entry in his blog on Tumblr, reblogged some photo's, and then got off just as Deborah called for dinner.

He ate his dinner, sitting next to Julie and the rest of the assistants in the orphanage and they laughed and joked, and explained how their days went. The usual for a dinner at the orphanage.

When Taylor was done with his food, he excused himself and went back up to his room, setting his alarm clock to ring early as it was Monday, and a school day, tomorrow. He then took off his shoes and changed into his pajamas, lying in bed.

In three hours that he lay there, he talked to Satan about how the doctor's appointment went. Satan laughed when he told him about the kicking incident, which made Taylor smile. They then talked about other things, such as the way Taylor's days usually worked. Satan was a very curious fellow, and when Taylor asked why he questioned everything Taylor said, Satan replied, saying that he knew very little about the world of the living. Taylor couldn't help feeling bad for him.

Finally, Taylor yawned and said goodnight to Satan. He turned his bedside lamp off and snuggled underneath the covers. He thought about how his day would go tomorrow, and for once, he didn't dread the school day because he knew he had Satan on his side now.

brutus is the retarded of the bunch, apparently. well, his name DOES mean stupid LOL.

next chapterrrrr.

yeah, idk about the name either :V


Taylor awoke to the alarm clock blaring in his ears. He yawned and stretched, but as he swung up his arms, something beside him swung out and made the clock on his desk fall to the floor.

He opened his eyes at once, and felt around him. Shock fell over him as he felt glossy and sleek feathers. He looked to the side and saw large, black wings that were very similar to a crow's.

"Damn, they grow that fast?" He said aloud.

He sat up and observed his feathers more closely. When he tried to flap them, they flapped, when he tried to fold them, they folded. It was an odd feeling. It was notable that they caused a heaviness on his back, and having another appendage made it feel weird.

"Enjoying your feathers?" Satan's voice whispered from somewhere far off.

"Yeah. Will I be able to fly with these things?" Taylor queried.

"Of course. You can fly anywhere now."

"Sweet!"

Taylor walked out of his bedroom and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. As soon as he got in and noticed his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he made a little jump. Instead of his usual self, he saw a monster staring back at him.

And this monster possessed tightly curled red ram horns; pointed canine teeth; a demon tail with a spade for a tail-tip; long black claws; and yellow eyes with slitted pupils that looked kind of like an alligator's.

"Be careful with mirrors; though you may think your eyes are misleading you, mirrors actually show your true form in the reflection. Always be conscious of mirrors."

Taylor nodded in understanding, even though Satan might not have been able to see him. He took a shower (it was kind of an annoyance with wings; they kept bumping into everything and it was a pain to dry them) afterwards and got dressed for school.

When he put on a clean shirt to wear, his folded wings suddenly disappeared. He expected they disappeared because he wasn't going out of control, but why were they noticeable when he was sleeping?

"When you sleep, sometimes your dreams can be exciting, or frightening; Depending on if it's good or bad. Thus, your wings can possibly flare up without you realizing it." Satan's voice echoed.

"I hope nobody walks in on me when I'm sleeping then." Taylor said.

He got his backpack and packed it with his text books and binders for his classes, making sure he had pencils and pens.

He grabbed his coat, just in case it was chilly, and walked downstairs to eat some breakfast, which included Nutella on a piece of toast.

It was odd though; generally when Taylor ate the toast, he was fine until lunch, but he wanted more now. Trying to shrug off this want, he walked back upstairs to brush his teeth.

Afterwards, it was back downstairs. Deborah hugged and said a "good luck" to him. Taylor smiled back and walked outside into the moderately cold, Manhattan spring morning.

And to the high school he walked. It was close by, so there was no need for a bus or a van to take him there. The middle and elementary school however were all the way across town so the kids at the orphanage who went there had to take a bus, carpool, or take a van.

Digging out his iPod from a pocket on his backpack, Taylor turned it on and listened to some music by his favorite band, Coldplay.

He hummed "Clocks" quietly and while walking closer to the school, he stopped to put on his coat, and pulled the hood over his head. Continuing on, he saw people he knew from school (technically he didn't know them, but he had seen them walking around the campus before and some were in his classes). He didn't wave, just continued to walk along, head down and staring intently at the sidewalk.

In no time, he was going through the front doors of the school, putting the stuff he didn't need in his blue lockers located in the hallways and getting the stuff he did need. First period: chemistry.

He walked into the chemistry class, the lab located in the back cluttered with beakers and scientific instruments made for tests of all sorts of chemicals. Hydrogen peroxide bottles and slivers of magnesium littered the top of the counter nearest to the sink.

Sometimes I wonder... Taylor thought, what the hell does the teacher do on weekends?

It was true; every time Taylor and the rest of his class got back from the weekend break, there was always some odd objects on the lab counter tops.

As the rest of the kids walked in and sat down at their desks, unpacking their belongings, the bell rang and the talking ceased. The teacher seemed to waltz in. She was in a good mood. But then again, Taylor's chemistry teacher, Mrs. Huzzon, seeemed to always be in a cheerful mood.

She was a very short and stout woman. About the same age as Deborah, her curly graying hair was always without frizz and clean. She wore plain t-shirts and jeans, and had round frames in her gold tinted glasses.

Turning on the overhead projector, she addressed the class as usual with a bright and cheery good morning. The students groaned in return, and Taylor remained silent, waiting for instruction.

"Does anyone remember what I said about balancing chemical equations last Friday?" She asked the class in her sing-song voice.

Many kids sank low in their chairs, but Taylor was practically jumping out of his seat with his hand straight up in the air, whispering "Pick me! Pick me!" under his breath.

"Oh Taylor, you're always so quick to answer! Yes? Do you remember how to balance a chemical equation."

Taylor took a deep breath, "Well..." And then he continued on, re-teaching the lesson that the kids already learned on Friday. As he babbled, a student slammed their head on their desk and went to sleep. There was a slap as one kid's hand connected with their forehead.

Taylor talked so fast, it was like he could become an auctioneer. Everything about the lesson came rushing back to his brain as he went on. Mrs. Huzzon was smiling so wide at him. A familiar smile Taylor had came to recognize with all of his teachers. He was the star student in every class. He had one first place in student of the month at least four times, and on every report card of his, you would always find straight A's.

"... And that is how you balance the chemical equation for photosynthesis; of course it's already balanced though." Taylor finished, panting from his on-going explanations of various chemical equations and balancing them out for the teacher and the rest of the class.

"Good job as always, Taylor! Everyone give him a hand for his brilliant explanation." And of course, after Mrs. Huzzon said this, there was complete silence. It was so silent in the classroom, you could hear a pin drop from the classroom on the opposite side of the hallway.

Taylor sat down again and Mrs. Huzzon started to write a chemical equation on the whiteboard near her desk.

"Now, can anyone tell me what the name of this chemical equation i-"

"Cellular respiration!" Taylor yelled, without raising his hand.

"Good, now what type of reaction-"

"Exothermic!"

"Anyone else besides Taylor now?"

No one spoke up.

"Alright, fine. I finished grading your last tests, I'll pass them out now."

Mrs. Huzzon went over to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers marked "first period" on a green sticky note. She took the note off and started giving kids their test results. Most of them groaned when they saw their grade, others exclaimed, "Yes, a B!" or "A C plus! So close!" It was clear most were trying, but they really didn't care all that much.

Taylor's got his back and as usual, a big one hundred percent was written at the top in forest green ink. He smiled in contentment and the teacher went over the answers for the kids who got them wrong on the overhead projector. Taylor read his library book as Mrs. Huzzon went around and explained the answers. Taylor was the only one reading, as the next to highest grade in the class was a high B.

It was noticeable people kept staring at Taylor, anger and possibly jealousy lighting their gaze. Taylor paid no attention, this is what always happened whenever he aced a test. Everyone seemed to want to blame him for their low score. It made no sense, really.

"Damn, you're a smart one, aren't you?" Whispered Satan's voice.

Why thank you! Taylor said back through thoughts.

"I never commented you on your grades in a good way, Taylor."

What do you mean by that?

"I mean, being smart is good and all, but have you ever broken the rules? Maybe even once? Or have you ever been lazy and just didn't do your work, or failed a test on purpose? Though it may sound stupid to you, it's really fun. You should try it sometime; if you want the people here to appreciate you, then break the rules."

Taylor was about to reply back, but the connection between Satan and him was broken and Taylor was left to linger on Satan's words.


Fifth period economics rolled by and Taylor casually walked in, sitting at his desk and waiting for the teacher, Mrs. Jone, to start class.

The late bell rang and kids ran inside. It was notable that most kids were late for this particular class. Taylor did have to admit, economics was boring, but it was good to learn about it as the kids were approaching the age where they would have to start investing in a savings account and learn about how to spend and distribute their money.

As soon as the teacher was finished with roll call, Taylor could feel himself slipping away to somewhere above the clouds. He never really dozed off or daydreamed in any classes, in fact, this was his first time it had ever happened to him. He wasn't tired or anything, just bored out of his mind. Thoughts began to wander into his head, asking him questions he never asked before. Should he even continue to care about school? Was Satan right when he said that to be appreciated by the kids here, he had to break the rules? Taylor didn't want to do that; he was a good kid at heart.

But friends... I need them... A voice told him.

"Taylor? Taylor, are you awake?" Mrs. Jone's voice snapped Taylor out of his trance.

"Mmm... What did you say...?" Taylor mumbled. Some kid behind him snickered at his answer.

"Well, what's the answer to my question?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know when I don't even know what you asked?" Taylor retorted, a little too harshly. More chuckles could be heard around the classroom.

"Well maybe if you got your head out of the clouds, you would know!" The teacher yelled back, pissed off at Taylor's back-talking.

"OK! Jesus Christ, calm your tits, woman. God..." Taylor hissed. He slowly sagged a bit more in his chair. A boy laughed and another gave him a thumbs-up.

Mrs. Jone glared at him then went on to address the day's assignment.

"You will all copy down notes from page two-hundred thirty through two-hundred thirty-seven in your text books. You may start now." Mrs. Jone walked back to her desk and sat down, typing something up on her desktop.

Instead of pulling out a piece of paper like Taylor would normally do, he just sat there and stared at his fingers which were conveniently folded onto each other on his desk. This continued on for a few minutes, and kids were starting to glance at him with odd looks. Wasn't Taylor normally almost done with his work by now, or was he already finished?

Taylor didn't pay any attention to either of the students. He just sat there are stared at his hands as if they were a piece of art to examine.

Finally, the teacher noticed him not doing any work and got up from her desk, walking over to his. She tapped Taylor on the shoulder with her pen, "Are you finished with your work?"

Taylor turned around and looked up at her. He opened his mouth as if he was going to answer, but turned around and faced his fingers again as if he had chose not to.

"... Well?" Mrs. Jone asked, puzzled by Taylor's sudden change in weather. On Friday, he was answering every question she threw at him, and now he was being just plain lazy.

"Nope. I'm not."

"You should get working then."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, shut up."

The moment Taylor said shut up, people began to notice and looked up at the oncoming storm that was about to happen.

"... Excuse me, Mr. Duncan?" The teacher asked, flabbergasted.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Jone?" Taylor mocked, turning around to face her again, a sly smile crossing his face. A huge difference from the smile Mrs. Jone had seen on Friday. On that day, she saw a happy, eager to learn smile. Now it was just... Evil looking.

The kids around Taylor began to get rowdy as they laughed at the quarreling going on. Taylor seemed to bask in this moment. He was actually getting attention.

"I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. Get to work or I will write you a detention." Mrs. Jone demanded.

Taylor laughed and turned around again, lifting up his legs on the desk.

"Just shut the **** up, *****, I mean seriously, what's a detention going to do? It's not going to teach me anything," more students began to laugh and join in as Taylor continued. One person looked like he was about to come over and give him a high-five for his comments.

"I mean, really, what the **** is any punishment going to do?" Howls of laughter and agreement followed Taylor's statement. And it was at that moment, when Taylor snapped back to being... Well, his usual self.

He immediately began to blush, face as red as a ripe tomato. He turned and looked at Mrs. Jone, who was just as red in the face.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jone! I... I really don't know where that came from. Really." Taylor apologized, stammering a little.

Now the kids weren't laughing anymore, and instead they looked at each other in question. Wondering what Taylor was talking about and why his sudden change in behavior.

"Is he bi-polar?" Taylor heard someone whisper to a student, "No, I think he's on drugs..." Was the receding person's answer.

"Enough." Mrs. Jone said sternly. Everyone stopped talking and faced her.

"Mrs. Jone, I swear I didn't mean what I said-"

"Mr. Duncan, I want you to report to the principals office. Now."

Taylor opened his mouth in protest, but she gave him one look that made him realize that she wasn't accepting any kind of apology.

Obediently, Taylor stood up and left the room, heading towards the principals office all the way across campus. As he walked down the hallway towards the doors that would lead outside and eventually to the office, Taylor saw Joe and his crew come out of the boy's bathroom near the end. Once they saw Taylor, they snickered and headed towards him.

"Hey, why the long face?" Joe said, a smile creeping across his wide lips.

"Leave me alone... I am not in the mood..." Taylor muttered.

Joe, Daniel, and Noah laughed at his answer and stopped him from going any further.

"Move out of the way! I have to get somewhere!" Taylor yelled at them.

"We're not gonna let you go without a fight..." Joe said. He pushed Taylor into Daniel and Noah's arms who grabbed him from behind and held him in a head lock.

"There's classrooms right by here... Someone's going to see you..." Taylor spat through gritted teeth. Joe made a menacing laugh.

Leaning in close, Joe mumbled in Taylor's ear, "Does it look like I care? All I care about is seeing you crying for your mommy... Oh wait, you don't have one, ha ha ha!" Joe's crew joined in with his laugh and dragged him back to one of the blue lockers in the hallway, as if they were going to punch and kick Taylor until he was knocked out then shove him in a locker.

He was finally held in place in front of a large locker, and Joe stood in front of him, cracking his knuckles satisfyingly.

"Where should I punch you first? The forehead? The eyes? The nose? The mouth? The chin? The stomach, maybe? Hmm... Decisions, decisions..." Joe mumbled to himself, snorting a chuckle here and there.

"The nose should be a good first spot, don't you guys think?" Joe asked his buddies, who nodded in eager agreement. They just wanted to see someone get hurt.

"Good..." Joe said, and as fast as you could say duck, he launched a powerful punch at Taylor's nose.

It made contact with the cartilage on the tip of Taylor's nose. Pain shot up his face as it was broken instantly from the impact. Taylor did not cry out, and in anger that there was no reaction from Taylor, Joe punched him again, this time in the mouth.

Taylor tasted blood in his mouth as the punch was finished. Pain was no longer present however, instead it was rage. Hatred. He never hated anyone as much as Joe right now.

"Such a bad idea..." He mumbled to Joe.

"What's that, loser? I can't hear you because there's so much blood in your mouth! Ha!"

Taylor faced him, fury lacing his fiery green gaze. He spit out a tooth that had been knocked out. A tooth from the bottom row.

It happened before Taylor even knew what he was doing. Joe was on the floor on the opposite side of the hallway, writhing around in pain while clutching his heavily bleeding face.

Finally gaining control, Joe faced Taylor, his mangled face making him looked wild.

"That hurt, you ****er!" Joe yelled at him, and tried to stand up and fight back.

Taylor made an advance at him again, and before he knew it, he lost control and the wings on his back grew and ripped out of his clothes. He was left hovering over Joe who was huddled on the floor in fear, jet-black wings spread out and flapping in small, quick movements. He made a weird hissing sound at Joe and he backed up until he hit the wall.

Before Taylor or Joe could do anything, the bell rang and people filed out of their classes, heading to their sixth period. But they all saw the scene and they circled around Joe, Taylor, Daniel, and Noah. The teachers noticed the crowd not moving in the hallways and they too investigated the scene. Upon arrival of seeing Joe on the floor with his face broken and bloodied, and Taylor with black angel wings and hissing a kind of threat at Joe's cowering figure was enough to make one of the teacher's go and get the principal himself.

"P-please... Don't... Don't h-hurt me again..." Joe whimpered, and then he began to cry in front of Taylor.

Taylor's senses came back to him, and he realized a bunch of people were staring at him and his knuckles which were stained with Joe's blood.

And his wings were present.

Turning to look at the sea of eyeballs gawking with horror at him, and glancing at Joe with a waterfall streaming down his bloody face, he smiled at everyone in front of him, regularly pearly white teeth now stained red from his own blood.

What have I done...