Mkay, by request of Wolfen, I'm finally posting the next one. *grumblegrumble*

Chapter One

“Huh?!” Celia sat up with a start, her heart beating at an unnaturally quick pace. Her face was coated in sweat and fear, neither of which complimented her features. Her entire body was quaking, and her head pounded. “A dream? That... that must be it. Nothing to be afraid of.” Slowly, the female curled up her legs, not relieved in the least by her own words.

Letting loose a deep sigh, the demon placed both hands on the sides of her head, cradling herself back and forth in a lame attempt to comfort herself. What's wrong with me? And, why is my mind doing this to me? Softly, her eyes shut together, pleading that this was all just a figment of her own demented imagination. It was day, therefore no fear of anything appearing whence her eyes opened again... right? Tentatively, she opened them, only a slit.

The demon sighed once more, this time signaling relief. “Nothing. Why am I worrying?”

“Because you have every reason to,” came a voice from behind her. It was the same from the night before. Though, this time more ghastly, it's tone empty and hollow. A pair of white hands wrapped themselves around her torso, their touch chilling. “Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you. Yet.”

Celia had been stricken right in her core by his words... his touch. This was so much of the boy she knew, and yet so warped. The emotions that welled in her did not allow her to fight back, or even speak. Her lips separated a mere half inch, letting out a shrill, “wah?”

“Speechless, eh? I guess I'd expect as much. I just keep reappearing, don't I?” His head popped up beside hers, eyes still black and soulless, but his smile playful. “I'm really no different from the Mitchell from your childhood. Maybe a tad bit dead, but who cares?” He brushed his cheek against her own, sending another set of chills up her spine. His skin was course and rough, perhaps a bit decomposed even. This was the last straw.

“I care!” A swift movement of the arm, and she elbowed him right in his stomach, at least whatever was left of a stomach. The demon knew that it would have no effect, because, as he put it, he was 'a tad bit dead', but she would take her chances. As soon as his grip on her lessened, she sprang from his arms and off the bed to face him head on. “Why?”

He scoffed, as if her question was childish, “You're asking me why? It's obviously your mind that's doing this. Ask your own self. In the meanwhile...” Laxly, he began to slink off the bed, his playful smile ever present. “I'll enjoy the time I have with you before your mind does you in.”

“'Does me in'?” her eyes had regained their usual hardness, probably from realizing Mitchell posed no threat at the moment. “Gah, will you explain anything to me? It's obvious that my mind is being a stubborn at the moment.”

“No can do, Celia. This is for you to figure out and for me to laugh at. You could always just do as I said before and give in. I mean, it's not going to cost you much. You're already mostly a soulless bitch. Nothing to lose,” he sneered at her, losing what little charisma he had left. And, whatever hope the girl had that he was somehow still the same Mitchell.

And, despite knowing well that this was her mind, it hurt. “So what if I am soulless? So what if my emotions don't matter to me? Emotions are meant to be manipulated! Not to be given in to. Now, leave me be,” the demon rose her chin pompously, and shut her eyes with finality, hoping that would be enough to make her mind put the images to rest.

“Sorry, girl. I'm not leaving yet. Your mind and your emotions... heh, they're completely different from the ones you let show. I don't know if I'm just here to show you that, or to wait for you to become the hardcore emotionless person you're capable of. Perhaps they're one in the same,” he chuckled, deeply and evilly. “All those attempts to make you more tolerant toward humans? Yeah, well, I'm here to reverse that and make it worse.”

“... But, the real Mitchell--” she began, noticing the flaw within his words immediately, but her voice came like that of a quivering child, unsteady and unsure.

“'But', 'but',” he mocked. “But, nothing. I'm not the real Mitchell. I'm the Mitchell your mind wants. The one who you'll believe, no matter what.” Poison dripped from the words as they lingered in the air, creating the silence unbearable. Again he spoke, knowing she would not reply unless he did, “Just think of me as your guardian angel. Except I'm leading you down the path to power and I sure as hell am not an angel. I'll teach you what you need to know to give in to your emotions and summon each at whim while becoming the soulless killing machine you've always wanted to be.”

What I've always wanted to be? Once more she contemplated his words, finding the truth in them to be unbearable. It is what I've always wanted to be, isn't it? But... is that what I want to be anymore?

“What's wrong, Celia? Not sure what you want anymore?” he called, laughing another cruel cackle.

Her eyes widened, “How--?”

“Need anymore proof that your mind sent me for this? It's time to go off together, me teaching you what you need to become. Your facade can finally end.”

“No...” she paused, “I don't want this...”

“Yes, you do,” he smiled with such malice, “But, I guess this is a lot to take in. Ponder it. Tonight I'll see you again, and tomorrow we'll begin...”

Another blink, and he disappeared as soon as he had gotten there. All that was left in his stead was a headache and a lot to think over.

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