Possession (COMPLETED) (South Park) {DamienxPip}

Chapter 16| Pip

I wake up in a place I've never seen in my life. The only thing I remember before passing out was an immense pain; it felt as if I was being torn limb from limb, like I was in some old fashioned torture device. I shake the thoughts off, just happy that the pain has vanished.

I shiver. I'm wrapped in a blanket, yet I feel unusually cold. Different. Though I'm not sure how.

As I sit up, I can't stop myself from groaning. My head aches. I attempt to blink away the sleep, but just end up rubbing my eyes. I pull my hands away from my face swiftly; they're cold also, freezing in fact.

Looking down at my hands, I notice that the change in temperature isn't the only thing that is different. My hands are no longer a pale, flesh colour. They're white, almost like marble, and the thin blue veins I've come so accustomed to aren't there. My wrists are just white, along with the rest of my arm.

The weirdest part, is my nails. Clear, curved nails have been replaced by pointed, black ones. I shiver, noticing that the black isn't varnish as I try to chip them.

"Your nails are gross." I jump at the sudden voice, vision snapping from the nails to the figure leaning against the wall: Damien.

A part of me is instantly relieved. Damien is here, I'm not alone in this unfamiliar room. The other part of me, feels like crying. Just breaking down and bawling.

"The exorcism didn't work?" I squeak, trying my best not to cry.

"Don't sound so disappointed." Damien rolls his eyes, but there's a sincere look to the crimson orbs. "The exorcism did the opposite of what it was supposed to do."

Damien then strides forward, revealing a mirror and handing it to me. He then steps back, almost bracing himself.

Clearly confused, I hold the mirror up by the handle and peer into it. Then, I gasp.

My skin is white, paper white. My lips are tinted grey, my hair following suit. While it still holds the blond colour, streaks of it are stained an inky black. Then, there's my eyes; while one is a light blue, the other is the complete opposite. It's red, gleaming in the dim light of the room while the other barely catches the light. On my cheek is a thin scar.

"Your eyes are kind of cool," Damien begins, grinning. I spy his pointed fangs, and open my mouth to find the same, paired with a grey tongue. "By the way, apologises for the scar. It will stay with you forever."

The scar is the least of my worries.

"W-where are we?" I ask, my voice shaking and cracking.

"Welcome," Damien starts, stepping back once more with his arms outstretched. "To Hell! You're in my bedroom by the way, my bed." He then winks.

"Hell?" I repeated, eyes wide. Damien slowly nods.

"H-E-L-L." He spells out slowly.

"Does this mean.. I'm dead?"

"Oh yes." Damien nods once more. "Very dead, yes."

I shakily sigh. "I thought I wouldn't gone to Heaven."

"One, Hell's better, trust me. Two, people who aren't Mormon never get to Heaven." Damien then poses and gives me a look which translates to 'really?' "Three, you played with a Ouija Board, like Hell, no pun intended, you're going to Heaven."

"Oh." I say simply, not knowing what else to say. Damien nods once more, then carries on to whistle a tune to himself.

I look around the room, contemplating my surroundings. It's dark in here, the only colours being various shades of reds and black. There's a light, telling me that Hell does have some sort of electricity. This is a bedroom, with a wardrobe and mirror and bed, which means Hell must be semi civilised.

Maybe it won't be that bad?

Sure, I won't be able to live how I wished, but it's better than nothing.

A knock on the door interrupts Damien's whistle. It then opens, revealing a heavily muscled, hoofed, red creature which matches illustrations of Satan. I squeak, gripping the blanket and moving back.

Damien glances at me and snickers. "It's only my dad. He's practically harmless."

I glare at Damien, wishing he wouldn't laugh at me. How am I supposed to know Satan is harmless?

"Damien," Satan's voice is the complete opposite of what one would except. "Do you and your unconscious friend want anything?"

"Conscious now." Damien replies, and immediately Satan strides into the room, his hoofs clicking against the wooden floor. "Are you serious?"

Damien groans, grabbing his dad's arm in an attempt to steer him towards the door.

"Don't be so rude, son." Satan shakes his head, easily removing himself of Damien's grip. Damien runs his hands down his face in clear annoyance.

"I hate you." He mumbles.

Satan either doesn't hear Damien, or straight out ignores him. "Hi." He then looks at me. "Introduce yourself."

"Philip Pirrup, but most people call me Pip, because they hate me." I smile at Satan, who raises an eyebrow.

"And you call him Pip, Damien?" Satan faces his son, and shakes his head.

"I call him whatever I want. It doesn't mean I hate him." Damien looks to me, and our eyes lock for a second before I look to  Satan once more.

"You actually can't call me whatever you want," I tell Damien, and his dad snorts.

"I adore your new boyfriend, Damien." Satan smiles fondly at me as I feel my cheeks flush. Damien then coughs in surprise, rushing to his dad's side and urging him to leave.

I can't help but laugh as an embarrassed Damien coaxes his dad out of the room, continually cursing and complaining. When Satan is finally out the door, I raise an eyebrow and look at Damien.

"'New boyfriend'?" I quote, trying to stop myself from smiling.

"Uh.." Damien trails off, rubbing the back of his neck with flushed cheeks. A sheepish smile spreads across his features, making him look adorable. "I kind of, told my dad everything. I guess he just assumed."

I laugh once more, finding the image of Damien and his dad chatting about events especially amusing.

"I am curious though," I begin once my laughter dies down. "What relationship status do we have?"

Damien bites his lip. "Whatever status you want? Facebook official? Domestic? Abusive?"

I can't help but smile as I stand from the bed, covers falling from me and resting in a heap on Damien's floor. I approach Damien, then brush my lips against his cheek. The shy manner which he possesses right now is too cute for words, and even when he tries to joke you can hear how embarrassed he truly is.

"I want a romantic one." I tell him, my voice light and soft. Damien's expression then changes as he smirks, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. I follow his lead, wrapping my own arms around Damien.

I'm about to lean in and lock our lips, when he stops me.

"Hold on," he begins, hand practically pressed against my face. "Your parents. What will they do now you're dead?"

"Probably not realise until they get back from England." I say simply, shrugging.

"That's depressing." Damien states, making me roll my eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me." I say simply, then Damien laughs, leans forwards and connects our lips in a wonderful kiss.

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Hope you all enjoyed Possession.

To everyone who stuck along the rocky road and didn't leave, thanks. Updates were very far apart and I bet that was annoying as fuck.

*insert inspirational quote*

If you want, opinions on the story can be left. I always like reading them.