Text An Evil World

[Godot 513]

edit:: Language warning, justtobesure

 

My first name is Jacob. Not Jake, or Jac. Just Jacob.

 

I guess the only word you could use to describe me is, well...average. Average looks, average grade, average height, average weight--hell, even my name is pretty common (though I think we have a certain series of vampire-romance novels to thank for that). I live in a normal, middle class house, in probably the safest neighborhood in the USA. Nothing ever happens here, and we're all pretty much fine with that.

 

My parents are pretty average too. My mom stays at home and cleans; a normal housewife. Dad works at the office, sits at a desk, and drinks coffee all day while pretending to actually get work done.

 

The only part of my life that's out of the ordinary is my sort-of-brother. He's, well...different.

 

That is, if you consider being a demon sent from Hell to make my life as miserable as possible different.

 

 

 

But I'm getting completely ahead of myself here.

 

Why don't I just start from the beginning? From the day I first met him.

 

--------------------------

 

I swung my body onto the couch and turned on the game controller. The game company's logo flashed on-screen as I dug my hand into the chip bowl. Damn, what a great way to end a horribly boring day.

 

Unfortunately, my happiness was shattered by a knock at the door. Talk about poor timing.

 

"Door's open!" I shouted. No way in hell was I getting up.

 

As the game started loading, I felt an odd presence. Like, something was watching me. I turned my head slowly around.

 

"Who are you?" I asked curtly, "And what the hell are you doing here?" He just cocked his head slightly and continued to stare at me.

 

He really was different looking. Not only was his shoulder length black hair tied back (an odd style for guys), his glasses-framed eyes were unusually large, and they actually looked nice coupled with his small, round face. Oh, and they were two different colors too. One, the same shade of blue as mine, the other, bright red.

 

This situation wasn't looking too good.

 

"So--can you speak? Or are you just going to stand there staring at me all day?�"

 

This time, he actually looked around, as if to see if there was anyone else I could possibly be speaking to. When he realized that we were the only people in the room, he sort of gulped and took a step back.

 

"Y-you can see me?" he said softly.

 

"Yeah. What, is your invisibility cloak not working today?" Speaking of cloaks, he actually was wearing one. An honest-to-God cloak. Did he think he was in the middle ages, or something?

 

"Oh..." Whoever-he-was went and sat down on the loveseat.

 

"So, mind telling me just who you are, and what you're doing here?" Now I was really in a sour mood. I had planned to start off the long weekend by staying home, playing video games, and eating all the crap I wanted. And then this weirdo shows up.

 

"Well," He pushed his Harry Potter rip-off glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, "My name is Mal. And I'll be your personal demon from now on." Mal smiled. He fricking smiled.

 

This guy couldn't be serious.

 

"Uh-huh--my personal demon. Right." I turned my attention back to the game. "Can you just stop trying to pull this little prank and get the hell out of my house? Thanks."

 

"Y-you mean you aren't afraid of me?" Mal's lower lip quivered.

 

"That's right," I said absentmindedly.

 

Suddenly, he burst into tears.

 

Yes, you read that right.

 

"I-I'm such a terrible demon!" he sobbed into his hands, "I'll n-never scare anyone!"

 

I wasn't exactly his biggest fan at the moment, but I didn't exactly intend to make him freaking cry.

 

"Um'well, no offense, but you aren't really that threatening, I guess is the word." Now he sobbed even harder. Have I ever mentioned how great I am at cheering people up? "I mean, what I meant was..." I thought for a second. "You're not threatening, but you're pretty damn creepy." It wasn't exactly a lie (he did scare me the first time I saw him--you'd be scared too if you saw a random stranger in your house), and it did shut him up.

 

Mal sniffed. "Y-you really think so?"

 

"Yeah, I do." I was starting to get impatient. "So, do whatever demonic things you planned on doing, so we can get this over with."

 

He jumped up, suddenly bubbly again. "Well, silly, it's not like I can do everything right now!" Mal giggled. "I'm supposed to be following you around for the rest of your life, you know." Hold on. What?

 

"Erm,I really have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Are you stupid, or something?" Mal raised one eyebrow. "I'm a demon. YOUR demon." He whipped out a scroll from his pocket. "Seeee? It says it right here!" I looked. Sure enough, it said, on the scroll, "Mal - Personal demon of Jacob Fringe"

 

"Wait a minute!" I ripped the scroll out of the demon's hands. "Who the hell organizes all this shit? I mean, this isn't real. It can't be. This is a dream. Any second now, I'll wake up."

 

He laughed again. "However surreal this all is, I assure you, it isn't a dream." Mal draped an arm around my shoulder. "Looks like you're stuck with me!"

 

Our interesting conversation was cut short by another knock at the door.

 

"Jakey, honey? Could you get the door for me? I'm carrying groceries."

 

Dammit. Why, Mom, do you have to have such shitty timing?

 

Meanwhile, Mal gave out a tiny squeak of delight, ("Oooh, so I get to meet your mum?") and ran to the door before I could stop him.

 

This was going to be a long evening.

 

 

A/N:I don't like the title for this, even though it sort of fits (since, in French, mal means bad or evil). I just don't think it flows very well, and people might get the wrong idea and think I'm writing some essay about world peace, or something. EDIT:: Thanks to Namine15 for suggesting the new title! x3

 

But, anyways, I got the idea for this at 2:30 a.m. and it just would not go away. I had to write it down. And now it's 4:46 a.m. and I'm probably not going to end up sleeping tonight. Damn you, imagination. Stop giving me my best ideas when I'm trying to sleep.

 

I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this story. Like, I seriously don't even know anything about what I want to happen. I don't know what Mal's intentions are, I don't know who sent him (Satan? God? Chuck Norris? Who the hell knows.), I don't know what will happen at the climax. Hell, I'm not sure what the main conflict will be. I'm just going to make the plot as I go along. /fail

 

TL;DR This is a really weird story, brought to you by my overtired mind. comments/complaints/suggestions/waffles?

[Naminé15 0]

A personal demon? Reminds Sebastian from Kuroshitsuji or Riuk from Death Note - ignore my crazy ideas - Anyway I'll be waiting for your next ideas to show up. :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

You could just call your story " An evil world ", you know, "this" really reminds essays titles talking about the world where we live, but "An..world", makes us thinnk of a alternative reality - where the story will happen, I mean, it happens here on Eath, but an Earth controlled by the story's author . -you can ignore this other carzy idea of mine-

[Godot 513]

Ha, I was actually thinking the same thing as I wrote it. Only he's a personal demon in a bad way. Like, he's assigned to people to torture them for life. Because that's totally not morbid or creepy at all, lol.

Thanks~! ;D I planned to have a new chapter up tonight, but I don't think that's going to happen.

That's actually a really good idea...I like it. 8D Imma do it.

[Naminé15 0]

At the end, my crazy idea for the title worthed something :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

Ha, I was actually thinking the same thing as I wrote it. Only he's a personal demon in a bad way. Like, he's assigned to people to torture them for life. Because that's totally not morbid or creepy at all, lol.

Thanks~! ;D I planned to have a new chapter up tonight, but I don't think that's going to happen.

That's actually a really good idea...I like it. 8D Imma do it.

 

I had tought Mal was adorable in both ways: personality and appearance - even with those eyes of diferent colours I still think he must be quite cute. :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

[ReAcTioN BbS 0]

this is good =D

[Sora not Roxas 0]

Lol so its a demon in your story too huh? We have alot of those running around now. Their like heartless as they scatter everywhere! Anyway love the story, the grammar is good and the format is excellent. I see you only have one chapter but when writing good stories it takes time, so take as much time as you need

 

Aww man you got me excited over this now. And it has like somewhat of a Death Note and Zach Bell feel to it. I love it, HAHA! Why aren't people reading this story its awesome!

[Godot 513]

this is good =D

 

Thanks~ ^^

 

Lol so its a demon in your story too huh? We have alot of those running around now. Their like heartless as they scatter everywhere! Anyway love the story, the grammar is good and the format is excellent. I see you only have one chapter but when writing good stories it takes time, so take as much time as you need

 

Aww man you got me excited over this now. And it has like somewhat of a Death Note and Zach Bell feel to it. I love it, HAHA! Why aren't people reading this story its awesome!

 

Thanks! owo I'm a slow writer...I promise chapter 2 will be done soon.

 

That's the angle I was going for. 8D Thanks again~!

[Godot 513]

((necessary double post is necessary))

 

"I seriously hate you!" I slammed the bedroom door shut and shot a glare at Mal. He just gave me a sweet smile in return, and proceeded to flop backwards onto the bed.

 

"And why's that?" he giggled. You seriously don't know how hard I wanted to smack him right then.

 

"Well, I just had to firetrucking explain why I have some guy dressed like he's a frickin' vampire staying in our house."

 

"Tsk," Mal waved his hand dismissively, "I am NOT a vampire! I thought I already told you I was a demon!" His lower lip pouted indignantly.

 

"That wasn't what I was getting at---never mind." I rolled my desk chair closer to the bed and sat down backwards so that my arms were rested on the back of the chair. "Aren't you going to tell me I'm being Punk'd or something? Then the camera crew will come out and show me the tapes, and we'll all have a big laugh about this."

 

Mal's oddly colored eyes narrowed. "Why is it that you are so-so stubborn?" He stood up and pressed his hands to his hips. "You've already seen more than enough evidence that I'm telling the truth!"

 

Oh, God. Here we go again.

 

"LISTEN, you freak." I grabbed the front of his cloak, and pulled him close. "I don't know WHAT the hell you're trying to pull, but it's not working, okay? So just go back to the occult you came from and leave me the firetruck alone!" He stumbled backwards as I let him go.

 

Now that that's settled..." Oh. Shit.

 

Mal's lower lip was trembling, and his eyes were beginning to water again.

 

"No no no, I didn't mean it that way!" I rushed over and awkwardly wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "U-um--I'm sorry."

 

Of course, this didn't do a damn thing.

 

"W-W-Why are you being so meannn?" He held his face in his hands and pulled his legs closer to his body. "I-I thought I was supposed to make YOU miserable! Oh, I'm such an awful demon!"

 

It's times like these when I really wish I had the key to my dad's gun safe.

 

"Please, Mal, just stop! You do terrify me, you really do!" Great. Now he had ME panicking.

 

"D'awww, really?!"

 

And that was how I found myself being hugged by a demon.

 

Hugged.

 

By.

 

A.

 

Demon.

 

"You're the best, Jake, you really are!" he squealed, squeezing me even tighter.

 

"M-Mal--I'm glad you're happy again and all, but could you please let go?" I kinda need to do something--what was it?--oh yeah, BREATHE.

 

"Whoops, sorry 'bout that." He giggled and let flopped backwards onto the bed again. "Y'know, I'm getting sorta tired." Mal then proceeded to pull the covers over himself and shut off the light. No, I am not making this up. "Good night, Jakey."

 

"Wait. Just wait. What the hell do you think you're doing?! This is my house, my room, my bed, my---"

 

He snored softly, pulling the blankets closer around him.

 

"Well, I guess I really can't do anything now." Grumbling to myself, I pulled a blanket out of the closet and laid it on the ground next to the bed. Of course, it just had to be the roughest, scratchiest blanket in the house, and I just had to have a wood paneled floor. "Good night--because of you, my life has been messed around in ways I didn't think were possible. I REALLY can't thank you enough."

 

((A/N: Wow...I really don't know what to say about this chapter...just I can't believe it took me 3 months to update. Though, it's not really a big update. /writer'sblock I can't seem to decide what style I want to have for this...short, simple, to-the-point, or big, elaborate, super-amazingly-exaggerated-and-epic. I'm kinda leaning towards the former, but the problem is, it's really hard to write simple, yet still interesting and not robotic-sounding. Crit is definitely encouraged. ?))

[Godot 513]

((A/N: Finally got off my lazy ass and wrote another chapter. Slightly better than the last, but not by much. (and it's pretty short ffff) Concrit very much encouraged. (: ))

 

"La la laa, walking to schoollll is so funnnn!"

 

This is what I've been listening to for the last hour. The. Last. Bloody. Hour.

 

"Heyyy, Jakeyyy, don't you thinkkk that walking to schoolll is funnn?" Mal skipped up behind me and grabbed my shoulders.

 

"No. No, I don't. Now, will you PLEASE just do yourself a favor and SHUT THE firetruck UP before I strangle you?" I wriggled around, trying to shake him off, but he refused to let go. For a useless idiot, he was surprisingly strong.

 

"Come onnn! You know that's not how you really feelll!" He smiled and rubbed his head against my neck.

 

Now people were starting to stare.

 

"Mal...please just let go," I growled, "We're going to be late, and Mr. Monroe will kill me. Again."

 

"Oh, fine! You're no fun, Jake!" Mal looked slightly miffed, but took his hands of my shoulders and stood beside me so that we were walking at about the same pace.

 

I don't know why I agreed to let him come with me. I really don't. In fact, I don't even have a damn clue how he's going to be allowed in. He said something about already being "registered" at school. Yeah, right. The last time I checked, self-proclaimed otherworldy beings aren't looked highly upon by our good ol' public school system. Insert laugh track here.

 

Either way, demon or not, there's just something...not right about him. He even--and I'm being perfectly serious--scares me a bit. It's almost like he's hiding someth----

 

"Hey, is that your school, Jakey?" He pointed towards a large, gray and white building, strongly resembling, in my humble opinion, a high-security prison.

 

"Yup." I walked up the long stone steps and into the front door. Mal, realizing I had left him, broke out of his daze and ran after me.

We walked down the hallway together (well, not so much together as him trailing along like a lost puppy and me trying to distance myself from him the best I could) to my locker.

 

And, of course, that was when the first bell rang.

[Godot 513]

((A/N: So...last couple chapters have been complete shit. Lemme try and see if I can finally save this story. 8D YES AN ACTUAL F~CKING PLOT WILL FINALLY BE STARTING SOON THANK GOD))

 

This is an evil world we live in. Many unseen horrors await us at every corner. There are people out there that, despite the risk, jump straight into those horrors, certain that, though the outcome might be bad, they'll sure have a lot of fun doing it. They laugh in the face of danger, smirk haughtily at death, and chitchat with the Devil as if he were an old friend.

 

In case you haven't noticed, I am not one of those people.

 

Which explains how terrified I was to drag myself into Mr. Monroe's classroom, at least 7 minutes late. He pretended not to notice me at first, stupid son of a bitch. I stood awkwardly at the front of the classroom, trying to ignore the fact that everyone in the fricking room was staring at me. Some looked sympathetic, most looked scared out of their wits. I couldn't really blame any of them.

 

There are is an unspoken rule here at Bellefleur Academy: You don't piss off Mr. Monroe. Let me repeat that. You. Do. Not. firetrucking. Piss. Off. Mr. firetrucking. Monroe. Or at least you don't if you'd like to stay off life support.

 

Looks like I just broke that rule.

 

I cleared my throat nosily. Guess it's now or never. "Um...Mr. Monroe, sir?" He didn't respond. "Mr. Monroe...I-I'm very sorry I was late for class today. U-um...I don't have a late note, but um..." Seriously, you could at least fricking acknowledge me.

 

It was at least a minute or two before he finally spoke. He placed the chalk he was writing with down in it's holder and swiveled his hips to face me.

 

"Oh!" he said, with mock surprise, "Mr. Fringe! How kind of you to finally join us!" Monroe smiled warmly at me and gestured to my desk. "Please, do sit down." Nervously, I dragged myself over to my desk towards the back of the room.

 

"Good luck..." someone's soft voice crooned. I whipped my head up. Mal. Sitting at a desk in the corner of the room. No goddamn way.

 

"Mal! What the hell are you doing here!" I whisper-shouted.

 

"I told you! I'm a student here now, Jakey!" Mal playfully poked his tongue out at me and turned his body back towards Mr. Monroe.

 

"Now, Mr. Fringe, I missed seeing your smiling face for the first couple minutes of class today. And I'm sure you missed mine too. So, to make up for it, I'd like you to come up here every afternoon for the rest of the year, for an hour long detention. How's that sound?"

 

"B-but, Mr. Monroe...!"

 

"Yes?"

"I-it's not my fault!" I jabbed a finger at Mal. "H-he made me late!"

 

"Now, now, that can't be true? Our new student here, Mr. Lavallee, was one of the first students to come to class. I'm going to give you two options, Mr. Fringe; one, you come up here for 2 two-hour detentions. One of them in the morning, another in the afternoon. Or, two, you take responsibility, apologize to the class and accept your punishment like all of my other students. Which shall it be?" He gave me sickly sweet smile again.

 

I sighed. "I'm sorry, class, for disrupting. It won't happen again."

 

"I knew you'd pick the right choice. Now, who can explain how to divide exponents?"

------------------------

 

"Thanks a lot, you firetrucking idiot! Now look what you'd done!"

 

"Ooh, I've made you angry, Jakey! This day just keeps getting better and better!" Mal skipped to his locker, somehow opening it without even turning the combination. After consulting his schedule, he began to grab various notebooks out of his locker. "I don't remember school being this fun when I was alive!"

 

How they'd let someone like you in a school in the first place is beyond me.

 

"So, mind telling me just how--and why--you've enrolled here?" I glared at him.

 

"Because!" He pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I need to!" Mal ran back down the hallway, stopping to accost a group of girls so that he could ask them where the chemistry classroom was.

 

"That's not an explanation, asshole..." I grumbled, "And don't touch me." As I turned to go to my next class, I could see a pair of figures walking towards me--one titanic, the other no bigger than a twig. "Yo, Mori! Mita!" They looked over and grinned. "See you in History?"

 

"See ya!"

 

Mori and Mita are a pair of Japanese fraternal twins, and the only two people I can truely call my friends. Does that make me a loser? Yes. Do I give a flying firetruck? Not really.

 

But more about them later.

 

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. Apart from the few classes we had together, I managed to stay from Mal the rest of the day (he didn't show up to torture me at lunch or study hall, surprisingly), which was a definite plus. Now comes the real challenge.

 

Mr. Monroe, ready or not, here I come.

[Godot 513]

((A/N1: First half of this chapter is written in third person, second half is in first.))

 

The demon carefully sat himself on top of the desk, making sure he didn't knock anything over in the process. There wasn't really much to knockk over anyways; just a couple of photo frames and a pink coffee cup containing one chewed up pencil.

 

He picked up a frame; examining it not so much out of curiosity as boredom.

 

Mr. Womanizer has a wife now? Kids too? Heh... He smiled in spite of himself.

 

The door slipped open and Mr. Monroe strode in. A thick stack of papers rested in his arms.

 

"Ah, Mr. Fringe! I see you've--- M-Mal." He set his papers down on the desk, trying to hide his surprise.

 

"It's been a while hasn't it?" Mal asked.

 

Monroe ignored him. "Shouldn't you be down eating lunch with everyone else?"

 

"Didn't feel like it. So I figured I would visit you." He smirked.

 

The teacher sighed; he didn't need this, at least not right now. "So, I'm guessing Jacob is your new post?"

 

"Yup. Just got assigned the other day."

 

"How'd he react?"

 

"He was pretty pissed. Still is, I think." Mal giggled shrilly to himself.

 

"Well, you seem pretty happy with the arrangment."

 

"Not really..." His smile fell. "To be honest, I think I kinda hate him. He's just so stupid, y'know? It annoys me..." The demon hopped back onto the floor. "Either way, I should be going. See ya!"

 

 

And then he was gone.

 

 

---------------

 

I slid into Mr. Monroe's room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

 

This is going to be SO much fun...

 

"U-um...Mr. Monroe. I'm here."

 

Like earlier that morning, he ignored me, though this time he seemed to be in a daze. His eyes were glazed over and he looked to be deep in thought. It was a minute or two before he finally seemed to recognize me.

 

"O-oh, Mr. Fringe! It's such a PLEASURE to see you." Mr. Monroe stood up and gestured to the chair placed in front of his desk. "Please, do sit down."

 

Though, Mr. Monroe was not a huge man (5'2", slim and slender--the guy's a frickin' midget) at that moment he was more terrifying than any body builder. He stood towering over the desk like some sort of prison warden, and light from the setting sun reflected off his glasses, making them completely opaque. Brrr.

 

"Now," he grinned. Brrrrrr. "You can start by helping me grade all of these." He threw a huge stack of worksheets on my lap. "Good luck!"

 

((A/N: Finally we have an actually semi-serious chapter. :U It's still going to be a bit before I actually try and find a way to get the actual plot started. orz Crit/comments/suggestions/etc. more than welcome. ))

 

[Godot 513]

"I. Hate. Worksheets. So. firetrucking. Much!" I scratched a correct mark down with every word. It was an hour after I had first came, and I was STILL stuck here correcting worksheets. I looked over at the stack. Still half left. "Yeah, thanks a lot, Mal...make me late for class, get me stuck here, and then just leave me...he's probably at home making cookies with Mom. Can't believe she fancies him..." I grumbled.

 

Mr. Monroe strode back into the classroom, this time with a coffee cup. I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

"That's right, Mr. Fringe. No more worksheets for today." He smiled, though it seemed slightly forced. Not that I was surprised; did that man EVER smile like a real human being?

 

He sat down across from me, putting his feet up on his desk and occasionally taking a sip from the cup cradled in his palms. From this angle, he looked exhausted. In fact, he looked like he hadn't slept well in weeks. His body looked tense, and heavy bags hung under his eyes. His hair looked like it could use some brushing as well.

 

Oh well...does it really matter? Why do I care what's going on in his life? I went back to diligently marking my papers until, finally, the last one was fully corrected and graded.

 

"Mr. Monroe, I'm done." He didn't look up. "Um...hello? Mr. Monroe? I said I was done." He nodded his head in acknowledgement. I took this as a "Just go" signal and quickly got my stuff together. After I had made sure I had everything, I went for the door. Finally...I could go home and just play video games, like I had been planning to on Friday. Who knows? Maybe Mal decided I was too boring and left. Or maybe there was a mistake and now he's bothering someone el---"

 

A small, cold hand gripped my forearm.

 

"Wait...just a minute." Mr. Monroe looked up at me anxiously. "It's about Mal...don't make him angry. Whatever you do. I wish I could say 'stay away from him', but that's not possible at the moment. So, please, just stay on his good side, okay?" He released my arm. "You may go."

 

((A/N; in case anyone is still reading this boring little story...plot is coming soon. For now, have some mind screw. I actually like this chapter better than some of the others...still not fully happy with it though. :I Oh well. As usual, comments/crit encouraged. ))

[Godot 513]

For a moment, time seemed to stop. I stood there, too astonished to do anything but stare at Monroe's face. His dull, hollow eyes stared back at me, and they seemed to be equally astonished. Neither of us moved, nor did we speak. All we could do was stand, stock still, by the classroom door.

 

"M-Mr. Monroe," I choked as I finally dared to speak, "What's going on? W-why should I stay away from Mal?" He only gaped back at me, not seeming to register the question. I grabbed his shoulders. "Monroe! Monroe! Answer me!"

 

"Please, Jacob...just don't..." was all he said.

 

"That's not an answer!" I slammed my hand down on the desk.

 

"It's the only answer you need." He opened the door and gestured for me to leave. "Please. I have work to do and can't be stuck babysitting all day." He seemed to be slightly back to normal now. But the atmosphere was still off. Something wasn't right.

 

Nothing was right anymore.

 

---

 

Mal leaned back onto Jacob's bed, running a hand through his long black hair.

 

"Ah...living here beats Hell any day." The demon sighed with relaxation and lowered himself even farther. "I just wish that pesky little Monroe would stop being so nosy. But, alas, we can never get what we truly want, can we?"

 

He had been surprised at first to see that the boy and Monroe had met before; the higher-up demons in charge of assinging posts were usually good about avoiding that type of stuff. Oh well. It was a small mistake, too insignificant to matter.

 

"S'not like Monroe can actually do anything about it."

 

An anxious knocking at the door broke the cold silence.

 

"Oh! Looks like Jakey's home!" He skipped cheerfully out of the room.

 

And all was still once again.

 

((A/N; another odd chapter. Hopefully I'll get some more ideas over vacation ehehe))