DEMON: Within Darkness

CHAPTER 1: Big trouble in a teenage paradise

A loud, energetic and elevated excited voice speaks over the radio waves emulating throughout the quaint little town of Seneca, while an aerial view pans throughout Grant county, Oregon.

"Gooood Morning, Pros-pectooors! Its Paul Gables, your faithful and eccentric KAGB newscaster, bringing you here some exciting news; so if your not tuned into 1212 kHz for your southeast gossip... dial it!"

As he is broadcasting, the aerial view focuses on the townsfolk getting ready for the new day.

"Today folks, I can't believe it, another beautiful day for you folks to stare out from your office widows."

Panning down towards a golden girl in a 70's bright pink with a white trim tracksuit and has a flower logo on the back, Flower Power, Baby. She is doing a brisk jog throughout the neighborhood. The view shifts to a side-by-side view of the tight cougar figure. A early 20some young man casually calls out,

"Hello Mrs. Nicholson."

Canny glance to see her pool boy. Undressing from his ritzy attire next to a hot red Les Wexner, 1952 Ferrari. Shuddering from the tips of her extremities throughout, exciting the womanly desires gawking at the most exotic tanned specimen with a perfect well toned torso. Envisioning the slow tease of those muscled ripped abs that she'd love to run her fingers aggressively through the hot sweaty crevices. Winking with a sexual intent,

"Hiiii, Nick!"

"On your morning jog, while Tom is at work?"

Sounding so innocent, whereas Mrs. Nicholson envisioned her body being ravaged by a demigod with his titan that resides in the big bulge convexly in his swimming trunks. Continues onward with a palpable intent from any and all glimpses from the neighbors. Nearly tripping over someone in garage jean overalls working on the undercarriage of a Chrysler 1970 Dodge Charger R/T. Yelping in a bit of shock and then anger from looking ridiculous from falling on her face,

"WATCH IT... you baboon fool!"

"WHOA, whoa... whoa Goldie!"

Late 20some gritty and grease covered from head-to-toe abruptly objects to the name calling and fires back. Appalled with the stereotype as it is clear she doesn't see herself like the sisters and retorts with predominant disposition,

"Goldie... goldie! Coming from a high school dropout working under the table as a maintenance worker and to boot the town's well known dealer; that my baboon is too ritzy for your tongue to comprehend!"

Smirking with the gratification of demoralizing the moron for calling her old is a win in the mindset; jogs on with pride in step, while keying across the exterior. Yelling in protest to the humiliation comparison to a primate,

"Its HARRRRRY... NOT BABOOOON! OHHHHH HELLLLL NOOOOO!"

Coming to realize what happened behind her back while being mocked and freaks while panicking to what horrible scribble was done to his pristine midnight blue and silver trim coating.

There is a cool mild breeze like a dancing ballerina, brushing by as the morning paperboy bikes by Mrs. Nicholson in a friendly cheery voice; the typical late departure in delivering everyone's local news,

"Morning Mrs. Nicholson!"

Turning in a bit surprised manner but kindly waves and tries to be discreet,

"You to Mikey."

"Enough of the small talk folks, be-causssse I have some exciting news for you Grant Union football fanatics!"

The side-by-side view pans off over Mikey's shoulder as he bikes throughout the neighborhood tossing viciously and carelessly reckless at customers yards, windows, cats and roofs. Coming to an abrupt stop as a ritzy middle-aged woman assertively down the driveway and plants herself in direct path. Transcending above with the exciting news,