Chapter Six:

Johnny was no longer thirsty. Hesitantly, he stepped towards the door under the stairs, not taking his eyes off it as if it might disappear. It did not. The door was still there when Johnny approached it, his heart almost beating out of his chest.

He pushed on the door, and took a step – and found himself on the same long, unwinding staircase as in his dream.

"Oh god."

It couldn't be down there. It wasn't real, there was no way. And yet, he knew that it was. Had he taken his pills?

His heart leapt with joy. He hadn't! It was a delusion after all. So the easiest thing to do, he supposed, was let it happen. Johnny was sure now that there was no danger.

He began down the staircase.

At the bottom, he was greeted with just what he thought he would be – the dimly lit, windowless room.

Calmly, he stepped into the room and looked around. Everything was as he expected. The paint can and brush lay in the corner. The blood on the wall seemed even more cracked and damaged than the last time.

Johnny wasn't afraid.

"I knew you'd return."

"I knew you'd be here." Johnny turned to face the shadow-man with glowing yellow eyes. "But you know what? This is all fine with me! Because I know you're an illusion! I remember I forgot to take my medication today! You're not really there…only in my imagination…with Eff, and Psychodoughboy, and that Reverend fucking Meat…"

"What's happened to you, Nny?" The yellow eyes narrowed in anger. "You used to be so enlightened – a genius, even. Then you got sent to that damn hospital…listen!" He took a strong step forwards. "Those people in the 'psychoward' are being brainwashed to fit society's idea of normal! You…just because you see and hear things others don't, that doesn't make you crazy!"

Johnny's eyes widened in fear. "W-what do you mean?"

"Don't you see?" the figure said coolly. "It follows you everywhere. You can't escape your own destiny. You don't have a choice."

Johnny was becoming angry. He was becoming angry because everything the man said sounded so right.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Don't you recognize me, Nny?"

Slowly, he stepped into the light.

"I knew it! It was you…Angus!"

Angus. His one and only friend. Johnny felt betrayed and helpless. How could he?

"Angus…Angus is a shell I found dead in an alley late one night."

Johnny gasped. The dream! In his dream he had fallen and died in an alley.

Johnny opened his mouth to speak, but he was promptly cut off.

"Yes, I know about the dream. That was Angus's last memory. I suppose I should explain, so you'll know…you'll know this is all very real.

"I came here to find you and bring you back to reality. I didn't want you to see me as I actually am, so when I saw this man dead in an alley, I decided to take his body. Of course, in doing this I received all his memories. Angus was twenty-two years old. He only told his girlfriend that he was twenty. He began smoking and drinking when he was eleven and did both frequently until the day he died. In his lifetime, he got seven different girls pregnant – the first when he was thirteen. He left every one of them. That is the real Angus."

Johnny dug his own fingernails into his arm. "Then who are you?" he growled.

The possessed body took a deep breath.

"Some people call me the Dark Lord…some call me the King of Darkness…some call me…"

Johnny interrupted, his face contorting in disbelief.

"Juan Diablo!"

The man smirked. "I told you, my father retired. My name…is Pepito Diablo. And I am Satan now. How else could this body have kept from rotting? I sustained it."

That explained the smell. It all hit Johnny in a flash. Covered by the smell of cigarettes was the smell of death. And the girl…the girl who was chasing him must have been his last girlfriend.

"Why couldn't you have just taken another form, like your father would have?"

"Nny, I'm not nearly that advanced yet! My Hellpowers are still developing, you know. These things take time!"

Johnny stared at Satan at a loss for words.

"You can't be like other people…you're meant for this. The thing is, you're in the minority. The "sane" ones will refuse to believe it, but it's true. The monster is there to give you incentive, should you ever try and cease to do your duties. Not even your precious medication can stop that."

Johnny buried his face in his hands. "The teenagers, the prostitutes…I killed them all, didn't I?"

Satan nodded his head gravely. "Yes. But you've been distracted lately, and the monster is getting hungry. That's why I felt it was time to reveal myself."

"Well…what am I supposed to do?"

"I'm going to leave this body, and then I want you to use it. After the wall is good and painted, I want you to get in your car and go back to where you came from. It's where you belong."

The body of Angus shook and convulsed. The head swung backwards, the eyes rolling into the head. It crumpled to the floor, still convulsing feverishly, as the mouth opened wide and excreted a sickly, thick gray cloud. Now, standing before Johnny, was Satan in all his hellish glory. The new Devil had messy black hair, much like Johnny's own, with horny curling outward atop his head. The eyes were a glowing yellow. Finally, looking down at the dead body of Angus, Johnny could see the actual eye color – a dark brown.

Satan grinned, a fang slipping over his bottom lip mischievously. "He will suffice for a fresh coat. He's still got almost all of his blood in him."

Satan turned, stealthily glided up the steps, and disappeared. Johnny wouldn't see him for a long time after that.

Johnny sighed, accepting his fate. He felt cold – nothing. Deep down, he supposed, he knew there was no way to escape. The medicine was just an excuse – it was everyone's excuse – to keep their true selves from shining through. It was set to crush deviation.

And sometimes, even, destiny.

Johnny knelt down on his hands and knees and got to work. He squeezed the blood out of the dead Scotsman with fervor, emptying him completely. And he even found himself enjoying it.

Late in the night, Johnny sat back and admired his work. The entire length of the wall glistened wetly, beautifully. It was, really – absolutely beautiful.

Angus was dragged into the backyard and buried. And after a moment of peace, looking up at the stars, Johnny gathered up Feebly and got into his car. With what would probably ever be his only friend sitting on his lap, Johnny began the journey home.

Back to his ordinary world.