A telepathic demon finds himself on earth and meets some members of Marylin Manson. First chapter only.
I don't own anything in the story, not the band, not the members...not the rights to the band. okay, let's go!
Things like this just weren't supposed to happen, I mused, strolling down an abysmally sunny street through sickeningly cheerful crowds. How could a powerful vampire demon like myself get mired in a sinkhole like this??? Depression settled on me like a cloud. I was in some kind of sunny town, 'LasVegas' they called it, and people were avoiding me like the plague. It could be my extensively tattooed body and shockingly white skin, or maybe it was my waist length hair, or my forbidding visage, but they scattered when I walked through groups of them. The sun was painful, more so because I lacked a shirt, so I sat and sulked for awhile in the shade of an awning and chewed on a fingernail while I pondered my next move.
Getting back to hell seems like the obvious course of action Too bad my many attempts to do this hadn't worked. The earthly plane seemed to be a bit of a black hole, a place it was easy to fall into but all too hard to get back out of. It was possible to send messages or and create portals to return to my home, but that would attract the unwanted and sometimes deadly attentions of heaven's agents. They were everywhere, in nearly every town, disguised as churches, community and youth centers, homeless shelters, the red cross, the salvation army, and even in religiously run schools. The agents of heaven pose as priests, teachers or doctors, 'good samaritans' is what they like to call it. They pretend to be humans who want ot help 'their fellow man' and the humans eat that lie right up. They've been doing it for centuries, maybe more, and it almost scares me. What could they be convinced to do, if heaven's angels told them it was 'the way of the lord'? There were a few humans who went against this, but they were called out casts or 'Satanists' and shunned by the rest. A friend of a friend told me of a few notables of this splinter group, an Anton somebody and a guy named Marlin Massin. Or was it Marid Massin? I couldn't remember. They called themselves the alien elite, and if I had any hope of getting back where I belonged, it lay with these people. They would (hopefully) be amicable enough toward me to help create a portal so I could get back where I belonged. If I was powerful enough to create stable portals on my own, then I wouldn't have gotten in to this mess in the first damn place.
I was interrupted by my nail tearing out below the quick. Whoops. Cold blood welled up and dripped down my fingers. I covered them with my other hand, as if not seeing would make it go away. The door of the shop I was in front of opened, and a muscular man glared down on me. ''Hey, you gothy freak. No loitering. This place doesn't hire manwhores.'' I stared blankly at him just long enough to be utterly infuriating, then jolted his mind with energy. He screamed, clutching his head, then began gibbering like an idiot. I leapt to my feet in surprise. A quick check told me his mind was totally destroyed. I was shocked and a little scared, how had this happened? I hadn't put that much force into the shock. Enough to daze him for a few minutes, not turn him into....what he was now. I stepped back a few paces, full of disbelief. Some passersby were starting to notice.
''Oh my god, what happened? What did you do to him?'' asked a girl in a blue dress.
''I...I....I don't know.....I didn't think it would....'' she was no longer listening to my broken explanations.
''Someone call 911!'' she shouted to the crowd of onlookers who were surrounding us.
''I already did,'' said a strange, pale blonde man with bright red lips. He had just emerged from the bar, followed by a dreadlocked man with a short black dress on.
"Hell, what happened to him?'' said the second man who seemed rather drunk, kneeling down on the pavement. ''Hey... Hey, man, calm down. Can you hear me?,'' he asked, but the man just babbled on, incoherently.
He stood up. ''I think he must be on drugs, 5,'' he said aside to the blonde man.
''No way twiggy, he's the bouncer,'' 5 replied, a little nonplussed, and seemed like he was going to say more, but was interrupted by a wailing siren as the ambulance arrived. Everyone cleared a path for the emergency workers, myself included. I backed up, turned, and tried to run away, but someone put a hand on my arm to stop me. It was a policeman.
''I'll assume,'' I hissed, trying to keep my temper in control,''That you don't wan't that hand.''
''Calm down, son, I just need to ask a few questions,'' he said, apparently unafraid of my threat.
Back at home, anyone would have let go immediately, because they would have known I was half serious, but I guess he hadn't heard of my violent reputation. It wasn't built on fact. Well, not entirely, anyway.
''What? What do you want from me?'' I asked. I really wanted to get away. I couldn't bear the sight of the person I had changed into something barely sentient. He was an obnoxious asshole but he didn't deserve what I'd done to him.
''I'd like your account of the situation. Witness reports say you were the first one seen near the man.''
''I was sitting on the bench. He came out and told me to leave. I didn't get a chance to say anything to him and I didn't hit him at all.'' That was true, as far as it went. ''He just....had a meltdown.''
''Okay......I'd like your adress and phone number for further reference in case I need to talk to you again later.''
I was at a loss. ''I don't....'' I began. The blonde man from earlier, 5, approached me and the cop. ''He's with us,'' he said, gesturing to himself, Twiggy, and a big guy with a mohawk. I was suspicious. Why were they helping me? They didn't even know me. But I decided to play along and ask questions (rather, hear what they wanted in return) later. He wrote down an adress and phone number for the police officer and then the four of us rushed off down the street. We slowed down when the noise of the ambulance grew quieter behind us.
I stopped. ''There must be some reason why you did that. Humans never act altruistically.'' 5 looked at me over his sunglasses.
Whoops. Really put my foot in my mouth there. It was to late to take it back--they'd never believe me.
''Listen, promise not to tell anybody.'' They promised. ''I'm a vampire. A devil-kin from hell. I'm not supposed to be here. I need to find a way to make a portal and get home.'' Way to put all your cards on the table, you ape, I chided myself. If they were heavenly spies, I was as good as dead.
Twiggy and 5 stared at me kind of surprised. They were obviously deciding whether or not to believe me, while the spiky haired guy said, ''Cool, we'll help!''
That was easier than I expected.
''Hold it!'' said 5.
Well, maybe not.
''You can't expect us to just believe you, man,'' he said. ''Can you prove what you say you are?''
''Of course I can. Just not out here in public.''
5 looked at me for a long time, and I stared back, allowing the red and purple flames of energy to
flicker across my eyes.
''Fine, come on. I can see that you really aren't normal, anyway,'' he said, and glanced once more at my eyes before laughing, ''Niether are we. We should get along fine. I'm John 5, this is Twiggy, and the lunatic is Pogo.''
These were obviously fake names. I gave them my nickname.
''I'm called Rings.'' This was because of my hypnosis style as well as the finger rings I wore made out of polished bone, but I didn't volunteer this information.
''Alright, let's get back to the hotel and introduce you to Marilyn. This is gonna be fun!'' said Pogo, and the skyscrapers loomed over us as we headed further in to the city.