RANDOM SCENE 2
| AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is another random SCENE (not a complete story) that was written as part of a writing exercise. Boo-hoo, nobody commented on it. **pout** Oh well...it's not incredibly interesting anyway, probably because I HAD to fit those words in there. I thought I had actually lost this, as I posted it under a different ID from my main one at Yahoo!, and so stumbled across it again by chance...to find it had been written over a year ago!! Unbelievable!
In any event, this scene is supposed to be from the most recent D Is For Damien story, Trinity, though back then I don't believe I knew that...as my view of what should happen has changed since then, then this scene itself has been slightly rewritten to reflect that change. Here, Damien has just entered a large mysterious building, and is about to learn a bit more about his past... (Yes, I realize this entire scene is incredibly vague and strange for anyone unfamiliar with my D Is For Damien fiction; so go check out my story Lucifer for some hints as to what's going on! :P ) 
HE PUSHED OPEN one huge door and stepped inside. His first instinct was to look up. The room loomed large and cavernous before him, bigger than the main section of St. Anthony's; the windows had been so long covered with dust and dirt that he assumed the place hadn't seen full light in ages. The lack of light bled it of almost all color until everything--the walls, the floor, the ceiling--was rendered gray and indistinct; yet the room itself was mostly empty. He turned to peer at a large painting or tapestry--in the dimness he couldn't be certain which--hanging on the far wall, barely able to make out the nebulous forms of two men dressed in robes, one holding a box, the other what seemed to be a glass vial. "Cosmas and Damian." Damien turned again, this time in the direction of the voice. Someone--two someones--approached him from the shadows and stopped beside him, staring up at the painting. Johansen crossed his arms while Palladia nodded upward, as if indicating the picture. "There they are. I should suppose you'd be interested in knowing more about them." "You being the honored scion of their family, and all," Johansen added. Honored scion? "No thanks," Damien said. "It seems lately every word I hear from either of you or one of yours is either some kind of half-truth or outright lie. Truthfully, I'm starting to get tired of you guys always trying to bamboozle me." And inwardly he cringed--Bamboozle. I'm starting to sound like him. Yet Johansen merely smiled. "Poor Damien. Don't allow us to quell your usually cheerful attitude. I've noticed you seem so much more subdued since learning about our order. Now why is that?" "Why?" Damien felt like shouting, but quickly--somehow--managed to bring his temper under control. No use losing it when he still had much to learn from these guys. You caught more flies with honey than with vinegar, as his uncle would say. He didn't feel he could give honey, but perhaps he could manage aspartame. "Why," he said again, more calmly this time; the cavernous room only amplified their voices and he felt he already sounded way too loud. "I'll let you know why. Because to me, you guys seem just as suspicious as Scorpio, that's why. You're around for hundreds of years, and only just now you decide to step forward and say 'Here we are'? I thought you knew me better. Do you expect me to be all smiles and butterflies and Jell-O when I'm surrounded by shady people?" Palladia frowned. "Scorpio? You compare us to them? Allow me to remind you. One of the reasons the Brotherhood was formed in the first place was to expiate the sins of Scorpio's members and combat their evil, wherever it spread." "Expiate their sins?" Damien waved a hand when Palladia opened her mouth. "Don't bother. You think a little 'expiating' on the side is enough to fight these guys? I don't know what kind of dreamworld you're all living in, but this is a CULT you're dealing with, and merely telling them they've made a few booboos, now clean up your act and move along, isn't going to solve anything." "And your approach is any better?" Johansen crossed his arms. "Need I outline the various punishments they inflicted on your good friend--what's-his-name, that borderline fellow--Shrine Knight?" Palladia cast him a look. "To point out to you just why he's ended up the way he has? Or how about that they inflicted on your father?" Damien flinched. "Ah, I see now you know what I'm talking about. So now you see. A mere foray by one such as yourself into their headquarters wouldn't be enough to learn what you need and to put a stop to them, to gain vengeance for your family." "Did I say I wanted vengeance?" "You would be killed immediately, or more likely, put through the same lovely brainwashing they used on dear Shrine Knight. You would never make it out safe and sound. That's why you need us to show you the right way. Face it, we have been around a lot longer than you." Damien bristled, fed up with the policeman's condescending attitude. "That's not what you said the other day, at least!" "Other day--?" Johansen looked mildly confused, then sighed and nodded. "Ah, I see. Palladia's been talking to you behind my back again, hasn't she. Brought up that whole 'You are the living incarnation of Saint Damian' business again, I suppose. As I feared. Let me tell you this. While Palladia is a kind soul, a good person, one of our best, it's also best you should take everything she says with a grain of salt." "Nate!" Palladia glared at him, black eyes flashing. "You must admit it," Johansen said to her, then back to Damien, "She tends to take things far too literally; I'm afraid her beliefs and viewpoints concerning your whole family history are most disturbing and Kafkaesque." Palladia scowled. "Kafkaesque?" Damien's mouth twitched. "Big word. Careful, J, you might make my head explode due to my sheer ignorance." The policeman smiled at him graciously. "I see you're regaining your sense of humor. That's good. You just may need it. As I was trying to say earlier, having you in a foul mood is not the best means of fighting Scorpio. It does seem that when you're depressed you don't quite have all your wits about you--and that's a bad thing." "I never said I'm depressed." Damien turned back to the door. The room, so huge before, now felt stuffy. The cop's presence--and his superior tone--didn't help any. "I'm just tired of dealing with your kind. Always scheming, always holding something back. At least Palladia felt free to open her mouth and tell me something, as crazy as it was. I think I prefer a crazy person to someone who's too tight lipped for his own good." He cast the briefest of glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "If you'll excuse me." He headed for the doors. Palladia's voice echoed after him. "Damien, if you leave now you'll regret it later." "Scorpio has many ways of dealing with troublemakers such as yourself," Johansen cut in. "Brainwashing isn't the least thing, nor is it the only thing. They have other psychological games they're trying out on you right now, nice little games that might just leave you thinking you're as crazy as Shrine Knight." "Yeah, and what games are those?" Tossed back over his shoulder, hardly sounding interested; he reached the doors and his fingers grasped the handle. "Your doppelganger. Kain." Damien felt the blood turn to ice in his veins as Johansen spoke the name. His hand tightened on the handle but he'd suddenly lost all the strength to pull it open. All the conversations he'd been having the past week flooded into his mind at once. Someone says they saw you. I know, you weren't even there, but still you gotta admit it's creepy... What're you up to, Dami, getting yourself in trouble in two places at once now?... He looked just like you, exactly like you...if it hadn't been for the color of his eyes I would have sworn it was you... So everyone...everyone hadn't been losing it. Least of all not him. There was someone out there, someone with his face. And Johansen had just given him a name. The singer turned slowly back to face him. The cop stared at him mildly, arms still crossed. Damien forced his fingers to let go of the doorhandle, forced his throat to work and his voice to come. "What..." His voice cracked, his throat dry. "...What did you call him?" "Him?" Johansen faked a puzzled look, then nodded. "Ah, yes. The one with your face. Most definitely a relative of yours, your cousin, I believe, though the sheer resemblance is startling. I'm quite surprised he hadn't shown up sooner." "What is his name." Damien's voice came out low and quiet, but carried in the still air. Johansen only smiled and tilted his head. After a moment he answered. "Kain, I believe it is," he replied. "Cousin Kain to you. Quite a fitting name for a star member of Scorpio, don't you think?" END |
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