Aenoch: Day One

Morning Chat with your host Jamie Summers

The camera focused on an attractive blond woman sitting in a faux living room set complete with couches, coffee table and crackling fire place. Right on cue, she turned to the camera and flashed an unearthly white smile.

"And it's twenty minutes past the hour. Last week marked the end of the Royal Flush Gang's southern crime spree with the apprehension of the organization's current members along with the recovery of billions in stolen artwork and jewelry. In our studio today, from Atlanta, are the superhumans who apprehended the gang: Raven and Aenoch or the "Darkhearts" as coined by their fans."

The camera pulled back to show the pair sitting in the blue overstuffed couch. The Spirit Drinker looked about the stage confused while Raven faced the interviewer with a stern expression and crossed arms.

"Good morning." She bid the couple with a wide toothy smile.

The pair remained silent, the only reaction being Raven's indignant sneer becoming more pronounced. In spite of her obvious disdain, the camera focused on the girl's stony face. Her sapphire eyes burned with anger at this seriously uncomfortable situation.

"Will is SO sleeping on the couch for this. 'She sneered under her breath' Good PR my ass."

The camera quickly switched to Aenoch who had taken a yellow plastic flower from its vase on the coffee table and was attempting to sniff it. No scent? How odd.

"So Aenoch. Could you tell the circumstances of their apprehension?"

The Spirit Drinker looked at the camera similarly to a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming Buick. He felt seriously uncomfortable being in the spotlight like this.

"Onlookers said that it was all due to a fire hydrant. Could you elaborate?" She prodded

"Well…Rae was using it to extinguish a fire at a Dinky Doughnuts. The people the water knocked unconscious just happened to be the Royal Flush gang…"

He yelped as Rae elbowed him in the ribs.

"What does it matter? 'Raven sighed angrily' they'll escape next week anyway."

Ooh! Scandal! The camera darted back to Raven.

"Is that an indictment of the American Judicial System?"

"No it's an indictment of the way you idiots lock up Metahumans. Got any idea how many times we caught Mammoth only for him to escape less than a month later? As long as you ignorant dumbasses insist on locking them in with the general prison population…"

The stage manager made frantic neck cutting gestures with his hand, signifying an impromptu subject shift. Jamie shuffled her note cards and skipped ahead.

"So 'The interviewer continued uncomfortably' would you two like to give our viewers the story of your powers? Raven?"

"Uh oh." Aenoch gasped to himself.

That was a seriously taboo subject with his wife- Beast Boy is still walking funny from the last time he brought it up. She leered into the camera. They want her story? They're gonna get it.

"I am the product of a rape between a demon named Trigon and a teenage runaway in a plot to jumpstart the apocalypse. Due to my screwed up genetics, the least emotion I feel can tear you in half."

"Umm…I see. Could we perhaps see some levitation or mind reading?"

"No" Raven said succinctly and without moments thought.

"Aenoch?"

"There is not enough room in here to fly."

"I think the viewers at home would be more interested in your ability to eat emotions."

He looked uncomfortable and turned to his wife. She rolled her eyes. It's not like he's cheating!

"Go ahead" Raven sighed

Aenoch stood from the couch and the interviewer joined him. His black trench coat and stone gray skin seemed to absorb the bright stage lights above. The interviewer was putting on a brave air but sweat began to pour down her cosmetics slathered face.

"N-now what do I need to do?"

"Nothing. Just keep eye contact."

His forest green eyes focused down on hers. Suddenly, their eyes began to pulse black as he fed.

"I…feel…odd." She whispered

"It is harmless unless I eat too…"

The woman collapsed to the yellow shag carpeted stage with a lifeless thud. Aenoch looked about worriedly while Raven covered her eyes in embarrassment.

"Oh my God! He just killed Jamie Summers!" The stage director screamed

They abruptly cut to a commercial break.

Meanwhile, in New York…

Starfire and Halloway were cuddling and smooching on the girl's tattered red couch. The Tamaranian presently began to purr and nibble Hall's ear. As she did, it allowed him an unobstructed view of the television.

"Isn't that Raven and Aenoch?" He gasped over her purr

She finished with his ear and looked him in the eyes.

"Make love to me…tasty one."

They rolled off the couch and onto the carpeted floor. As they began tearing off their clothes, Hall forgot the question.

At that very same moment, in Gotham…

The Wayne Tech Research and Development staff gathered around the employee lounge's large screen television erupted in laughs and giggles.

"PLEASE tell me somebody is recording this?" Cyborg asked aloud.

One especially long commercial break later…

The babbling Jamie Summers had been carted away. How was Aenoch supposed to know the human was so shallow? Anyway, some time in her tanning bed and a Botox treatment and she would be good as new.

In her place sat Katie James, their "Human Interest" anchor. Also gone was Raven who seized the opportunity and fled the scene. To continue the interview, Aenoch had swapped places with Will. He originally had intended to handle the show alone but the producers were attempting to woo their target five to twenty hormonal male demographic.

"And it's forty five minutes past the hour. So Will…you don't mind me calling you Will?"

"Not at all."

"Let's discuss your, um, other."

"Aenoch's real, REAL complicated." Will conceded

"So I gathered. But how exactly did he turn out like he did? He really doesn't seem like the cape and costume superhero type- more like an, umm…"

"Refugee from a Bela Lugosi film festival?" Will finished

"Well, yeah"

"To truly understand what Aenoch is, you have to go back over thirty years during my High School Art Club trip to Gotham…

November 29, 1986

Midnight, downtown Gotham…

"We're gonna die!" Iggy sobbed

Well that certainly didn't help matters. The bus's already hysterical passengers began to wail even louder.

"Igor! Calm down…we're all going to be just fine!" Missus Hall bawled from below the pile of coats

Instead of joining in the chorus of crying and hasty prayers, Will remained silent as his overloaded mind wrapped around the stupid circumstances that led to his imminent bloody death.

His High School Art Club had driven cross country to tour Gotham's Fluggenheim art Museum. Ordinarily his parents would have never allowed their only son to come to such a nasty place but because of his art teacher's fervent assurances they would be skirting the city's "seedier" areas, mom and dad reluctantly agreed.

But all it took was a mechanically unsound school bus and easily confused driver to send his teacher's assurances spinning down the loo. The driver had taken the wrong highway turn off, sending them headfirst into the rotting bosom of Gotham's infamous inner city. To make matters worse, their bus decided to give up the ghost right in the middle of some local street gang's turf.

Unlike California gangs that usually wear uniform leather jackets or similarly colored bandannas, these nut's faces were painted with white skulls. And now the horde of Skeletor wannabes had converged on their school bus and was currently attempting to claw their way in like a pack of wild growling Dingoes.

"We're not gonna hurt ya." One with his face pressed against Will's window assured calmly

"Naw! We're gonna KILL ya." Another giggled

"Come on! Start ya bastard." The driver sobbed as he tried to turn over the bus's blown engine

From his hiding space on the floor below his seat, Will could hear them smashing the windows and forcing open the flimsy bus door. Yes he was about to get torn apart by some drug crazed psychopaths and yeah this trip was a textbook example of his school's budgetary and logistical problems but what pissed him off more that anything was that joining the Art Club had been mom's idea! He in fact wanted to join the Dungeons and Dragons club but his folks had said no due to its alleged violent overtones. Funny, last he heard no one had ever gotten gutted from eight sided dice.

There was a sickening crash of glass and steel as the bus door was torn off it's hinges. The driver ran past Will's seat as one of the punks stomped up the steps and looked over the bus full of frightened children. The looks in its diseased yellowed eyes made Will's blood run cold. It was smiling insanely, displaying a mouth of teeth filed to sharp points. Will ducked down lower in a lame attempt to hide himself.

"Welcome to…URK!" The punk gasped

Hmm, that was odd. Will peeked from behind his seat. The bipedal piranha was gone!

"Aw shit! He's here!" One of the invaders screamed from out side

"Get 'em! He…OOF!"

Suddenly a cacophony of smashing pork chops, breaking bones and flying bodies erupted from outside the bus. The sounds were in such rapid succession, it felt as if time was put in fast forward. And with every crash and thump the number of different voices outside dwindled.

Light, nearly inaudible catlike footsteps ran across the length of the bus roof.

"He's over th…ARGH!" Another screamed followed by the sound of crashing trash cans and protesting cats.

"Put me down." Someone outside begged

"KER-thud…KER-thud…KER-thud"

That distinctly sounded like a head getting repeatedly smashed on the bus side below Will's window. What the hell was going on out there? He was sorely tempted to peek outside but couldn't summon the courage.

Then, like a thick blanket, the world outside their bus fell deathly quiet with the exception of some pitiful moans, sobs and someone crying for their mother. But their pathetic lamenting was quickly swallowed by the sounds of approaching police sirens.

Against his better instincts, Will left his hiding place from the floor and ran to the bus's shattered front window.

It resembled a war zone. The crumbling street was littered with broken and unconscious bodies of the once proud street gang. The nut that had boarded the bus was face down in a puddle of his own blood and newly liberated teeth. Amazingly, in spite of the beating they took, all the punks were still breathing.

A gunshot and the sound of a spinning fishing reel caught his attention. For a split second, faster than most could blink, Will saw a single form swinging away- its' long billowing cape and dual pointed cowl silhouetted against the full moon.

"Batman" He gasped in awe

……………..

"But how did that shape Aenoch?" Katie pressed

"Well, you gotta remember at that time I was pretty messed up. Just before the trip I had just been released from Ridgeview after some heavy duty therapy and was feeling real low. But seeing what I did gave my depressed brain something new to chew on…"

Back in 1986, two weeks later…

Click

"…and Boy George refused comment. Next up: The First Cut by the Eurhythmics. Annie Lennox and Billy Idol separated at birth? Believe it or not." The KWSS morning disk jockey said with unnatural jocularity.

"The first cut, is a criminal thing…the first cut, goes deeper in."

Will reached over to his nightstand, slapped the snooze button on his clock radio and collapsed back to his bed. Ah there was nothing quite like the first day of Christmas break. Of course his vacation had really started on Saturday but Monday was the first one to actually matter. Kinda sucked that he had to get up but there were big doings that morning and he wanted to hit the bookstore when it opened.

He slid out from under his steamy blankets and sat on the bed's edge. As he gathered his ambition to stand, his hand instinctively reached over and picked at the scabbed over slash marks on his left forearm. Geez these things itch. Still, better they itch than throb like they did with the sutures.

Looking to the bulletin board behind his desk, he eyed the hanging Gotham newspaper clippings. Will bet Batman didn't stress himself over a few flesh wounds. He would have ignored them and kept on going. But then, of course, the Dark Knight probably wouldn't have actually cut himself either.

With a primal grunt Will hauled himself to his feet. As he stood and stretched, the heap of yellow shavings and shredded newspapers within the small blue cage on his desk shifted. From the pile, a chubby brown hamster waddled out to greet him.

"Morning Lex." Will yawned

He pulled open a worn green Tupperware container and produced a green hamster treat. He handed it to the small rodent and it immediately took the morsel, shoved it in his cheek and disappeared back in its nest. Did the little guy actually eat them? Hard to tell with those buggers.

"You're welcome."

While stumbling down the dark green carpeted hallway to the bathroom, he could distinctively hear his mother at the kitchen table listening to the morning news. Part of him didn't want to have to deal with her this morning. Sure there would be the usual motherly greeting but accompanying it would be the examining eyes and troubled looks. He supposed that it was her prerogative to cause a fuss but after the mess in Gotham, things were getting a bit out of hand.

After relieving himself and washing his hands, Will took a second to look himself over in the large bathroom mirror. Hmm, didn't look like a crazy person. Abused? Surely. Troubled? With out a doubt. But crazy? Not quite there yet…at least not to the Jokers level. Of course try to tell others that. Everybody in the world knew about the box cutter and trip to Ridgeview.

But above it all, he saw himself with contempt. Was it any surprise he didn't have friends? Who would want to be near him? He wouldn't want to know him either. His self-mutilation kick was a perfect example. As his therapist was so fond of saying: "One who respects himself would never have done such a thing".

He returned to his room and pulled on his blue jeans. Reaching into his dresser drawer, he pulled out a random black T Shirt and unfurled it. It was his Iron Maiden Number of the Beast concert shirt. He hadn't actually attended the concert (his parents would have never allowed that). No, the shirt was purchased from his best (and only) friend Iggy whose own father took him.

Sometimes Will really resented the cosmic joke that stuck him with his puritanical parents. How many cool things had he missed due to their coddling? He wished he could've swapped places with Iggy. Strict parental supervision would have done Igor some serious good.

He sighed sadly and slipped on the shirt.

Later…

Will emerged from the hallway into the bright fluorescent and pea-green linoleum expanse of the Erickson family kitchen. Mom, clad in her blue housecoat and sipping her traditional cup of coffee, turned to the new arrival.

"Well good morning dear. Why up so early?" She asked

"Lots to do today." He said while opening the kitchen cabinet and pulling out the canary yellow box of generic blueberry Pop Tarts

He tore off their silver tinfoil wrapper and immediately began wolfing them down. In all his sixteen years, Will never had the patience to toast them. As he ate, Will could feel her worried eyes examining his arms for fresh cuts. The uncomfortable silence dragged until finally:

"My papers come?" He asked

"On the counter."

A neat stack of newspapers lay next to the microwave. If not for hiding from her eyes, he might have actually noticed. And as usual, the Daily Planet was on top. She always did that as a way of showing her disdain for his hobby.

"SUPERMAN SAVES COMMUTER TRAIN" Screamed the papers headline

Feh! Easy for one who can leap skyscrapers in a single bound. And right afterwards, the self righteous Kryptonian probably lectured the passengers on how safe and environmentally friendly the subway was. He shoved the Metropolis paper off to the side, revealing the Gotham Gazette underneath.

"GARBAGE STRIKE INTO THIRD WEEK"

But this was not unusual. Unlike Metropolis, Batman was never given the front page. It was common knowledge within the Superhero enthusiast community that the Dark Knight was considered to be a criminal and bad influence by the Mayor and City Council: a notion Will's parent's most definitely shared.

He flipped ahead. Ah ha! Near the bottom of the fourth page and hidden below a gigantic "Rent to Own" furniture advertisement was a pic of two hogtied criminals. According to the picture's caption, these would-be jewel thieves were deposited on the police precincts front steps. The article didn't mention who did it or if the loot was returned though (another ploy by the Mayor to cover things up).

Will took the scissors from the plastic cup next to the phone and began liberating the article.

"You and your Batman." Missus Erickson sighed

He remained silent and put the article to the side for inclusion in his scrapbook.

"Why don't you get into that fast guy in Central? 'She suggested' The Flash I think he's called?"

"He's alright but…"

"He's no Batman." She finished for him

He wondered what bothered her more: his seemingly unhealthy obsession with the Dark Knight or the fact that if it had not been for her interference, he would have never taken the trip to Gotham in the first place. She did have to admit though he had been unusually chipper since the trip- odd considering the rest of the bus's passengers were undergoing therapy (courtesy of Wayne Enterprises who had also chipped in a new school bus).

Will checked his watch. It was almost eight thirty and the bookstore opened at nine. He gulped the last of his Pop tart and turned to leave.

"So where ya off to?"

"The mall to do some Christmas shopping." He improvised

"Be back by supper."

He made for the door.

"Umm dear?" She called

Will stopped in his tracks.

"Oops." He smiled and ran up to his mother at the table and pecked her cheek.

"Need to take care of that peach fuzz." He laughed

"Shoo." She smiled as Will darted out the kitchen and through the foyer

He paused at the front door and took in the sight of their Christmas tree set up in the living room. It was nothing but a hunk of green plastic and aluminum the folks bought last year when his father's allergy to pine got worse. Geez even Christmas had been sanitized. He wondered why they even bothered anymore.

He trotted out the door.

Later…

Of course that whole "Mall" thing was a smokescreen. But if she knew he was heading back to the bookstore and his detective novels, she might have tried to stop him or else force him back into therapy. Oh he wasn't nearly as outwardly obsessive as Iggy whose favorite pastime was to strap on towels and jump off of roofs, but was still just enough to make her nervous.

What exactly were they afraid of? That he was going to run off to Gotham and become Batman's sidekick? That he was aiming to become the Dark Knight of Sunnydale? Not to say that the lifestyle didn't hold some allure to the kid. He wondered if Batman franchised the look.

As he made his way through the sleepy Sunnydale streets of cookie cutter flats, Will couldn't help but feel a little exhilarated. There was just something about walking in the shadows and anonymity that made his heart beat faster. What it must be like to take advantage of the dark, swing from the building tops and pounce on the bad guys like a caped bird of prey.

And that was what his parents and the Gotham press would never understand. With heroes like Superman or Green Lantern, they could be little else but crime fighters. But Batman had no superpowers (well none that was commonly known) just an educated mind, strong body and chutzpah. He made the conscious choice to go out and do the right thing. THAT was why Will looked up to him.

Sunnydale's main street was decorated with all the trappings of commercial Christmas observance. The light posts were wrapped with shimmering green and red garland while strings of shiny silver snowflakes the size of paper plates were draped over the street. It might have actually been pretty if one didn't take into consideration the only purpose of the display was to boost a lagging holiday buying season.

Hmm, awfully cynical of him. But then, spending a week in his pajamas while being held against his will amongst recovering drug addicts and twitchy perverts can make even the jolliest grinchy.

He pressed his back to the Quickee-Cleen Coin laundry's dark store front and took slow measured sidesteps down the sidewalk, all the while imagining the world around him through the Dark Knights cowl. Where there any muggers or drug dealers out tonight? God help them!

"Feh" He sighed sadly

It just wasn't the same being at ground level. To truly get Batman's perspective, he would have to be on the cleaner's roof. Of course the only tallish building in Sunnydale was the two story movie theatre down the street- not exactly an urban jungle by any stretch of the word.

The giant yellow street sweeper rumbled by. Will quickly returned to his regular pace and tried to look nonchalant. Cripes did the driver see him? Even if he did, who cared? Everybody knew he was psycho, what was one more?

According to his watch it was five minutes until nine. The bookstore was probably the only place in the valley that actually opens an hour early. He increased his pace.

Walking by the electronics store, he peeked inside the barred picture window. A brightly painted sign hanging over the display of Intellivisions and Colecovision consoles proudly advertised that Return of the Jedi was being released on VHS and Beta next week. Geez! Sixty bucks a piece? It was on his Christmas wish list that year, hopefully his parents would take it seriously. Eh who was he kidding? It would be another Disney flick, another one of those retarded Herbie movies probably.

He hurried past the Sunnydale comic book store and its trademark smiling Superman cardboard standup in its front window.

It had always a point of contention between Will and Iggy as to who was stronger: Superman or Green Lantern. As a matter of fact, right before their little adventure in Gotham, they had been arguing that very point. Sure Superman can leap buildings in a single bound but then GL had that cool power ring of his. Anyway, after Gotham all their arguments were moot- he knew who the strongest was.

He made it to Herman's Rare Bookstore exactly one minute before it was supposed to open. Not at all bad for someone who at one time thought punctuality was the study of juvenile delinquency.

The storefront was pretty plain as compared to the others on the street. No bright flashing neon signs or eye catching displays in the window. Nope, this place was for the true literary connoisseur.

Will had discovered the place by mistake a year previous. Iggy and his father left on vacation and had closed their comic store for the duration. Well to a nerd like Will, a week without the Fantastic Four and Spiderman was like Nell Carter without pans of Lasagna. To satiate his needs, he tore the valley apart.

To his dismay (at the time) he found that the joint sold only old pulps and science fiction paperbacks. It wasn't until his obsession with Batman began did he begin to appreciate the store's select merchandise.

Nowadays he spends nearly all his free time here, huddled on the hard concrete floor and reading the old detective pulps. The place was a vast storehouse of knowledge when it came to crime fighting and he wanted to learn it all. Mister Herman, the stores elderly owner, appreciated Wills interest and humored him.

Right at nine, Mister Herman's ancient and bespectacled face appeared in the doors window. He smiled and unlocked the door.

"Good morning young man. I was hoping you'd be dropping by today." He bid while standing aside and allowing Will entry.

Just the aesthetics of the place was enough make the boy smile. The tiny store was crammed from wall to wall with what must have been a mile of bookshelves. Such a tight squeeze it was, Will had to walk sideways to get to the racks in back. And the smell! He never appreciated the smell of old newsprint until this place.

"Just got in some new Bone Collectors if you're interested."

"Where?" Will gasped

"Towards the back."

The boy darted off on his quest. Sure he rarely bought anything but the old man owned the place and was about to retire anyway so who cared? Besides, it was nice to see someone from the Pac Man generation take an interest.

Will made his way down the colorful rows of crumbling and yellowed pulps. Ah ha! A pile of paperbacks had been neatly stacked on the floor. Will eagerly hunkered down and took the top one. On the wrinkled and faded cover, Detective Bone in his trademark beige overcoat, Fedora and droopy cigarette was standing over the body of a nude woman who had been cut in half.

"Bone Collector: The Case of the Bisected Babe" The cover said proudly

Wills scalp prickled with excitement. This looked to be the best one yet!

He loved the old Bone Collector series. Detective Bone had a sharp analytical mind and could solve murders and robberies with just a few pieces of evidence. It didn't take a big leap of the imagination to picture Batman in the same situation.

As he cracked open the ancient paperback, Will glanced at the bookshelves towering above. Directly at eye level and tucked between two Bradbury novels was a leather bound book. Odd he hadn't noticed it before. Mister Herman usually doesn't carry hard covers so it should have stuck out like a sore thumb. He replaced the paperback on its pile of brothers and carefully pulled the book off the shelf.

Will was unfamiliar with hard bound books and didn't find it the least bit unusual how cold the leather felt. It's cover was unadorned save for a single name punched in the leather…ENOCH.

"Ay-knock?" He mispronounced.

He opened the book to its first page. The thick parchment was blank. He flipped through the pages all the way to the back. All of them were blank, not so much as a smudge or fingerprint.

"Tease." He sighed, closing the book and shoving it back to its place on the shelf.

He made to reclaim his Bone Collector but paused. Something in the back of his head wanted to see more. Will was not the inquisitive type but his curiosity had been sufficiently peaked.

Will reached back to the shelf and again took the book in his hands. He had held it not even ten seconds ago yet it still felt ice cold. He opened it again to the blank first page. Yup, nothing had changed since the last time he looked at it. He lightly ran his finger tips over the ancient yellowed paper.

A single word written in old English calligraphy appeared on the parchment. Now anyone else would have dropped the book and fled after seeing it but in Will's case, the whole display had gotten the best of his immature and comic book addled mind. The word said simply:

"Empty" He whispered

He flipped to the next blank page and again ran his fingers on the paper. Another word appeared but was not in English, Latin or anything else he recognized. Yet, a part of him knew exactly what it said:

"Empty"

Was it getting a bit chilly in here? Eh the old guy must have cranked the air conditioning. He touched the opposite page and another word materialized. It almost looked Egyptian but with subtle differences. The characters were more flowing, like water or fish scales. It resembled gibberish, yet…

"Empty"

He closed the book and pressed it protectively to his chest. He desperately wanted it. Why? No idea. But his only thought now was to get the book home and finish it.

Will reemerged nervously from the tight rows and stepped up to the front register. The old man was sitting behind the counter and reading. Will had known him for some time but still trembled in fear. The storekeeper turned to him.

"Actually buying something are we?" The old man chuckled

The boy actually found it hard to find the right word to use. Will had always prided himself on his rich and varied vocabulary but oddly found himself at a loss. Finally he managed:

"Yes?"

The old man raised an eyebrow. Was it him or was the kid paler than when he arrived? Probably those new fangled florescent lights he installed.

"What ya got?"

Will showed the old man the book, his fingers clenching its sides like twin vices.

"Funny, don't remember this one." He said scratching his head

"How…much?" Will asked

The storekeeper took the book to examine it but Wills fingers refused to relinquish it.

"Uh, son? I gotta figure a price…leggo."

The boy reluctantly released the book and the old man curiously looked it over. His inventory mainly came from personal collections and the odd Star Trek convention- artsy-fartsy stuff like this is taboo. Eh, must have come in a shipment by mistake. He handed it back and Will took back the volume and crushed it to his chest. What was the kid's interest? No naked pictures inside, that much he knew for sure. Eh, best just get it out of here lest the place start attracting the sophisticated coffee-house set.

"Twenty bucks?"

Will reached inside his jean pocket and pulled out a wad of single dollar bills. He had been saving the dough for his parents Christmas present, kibble for Lex and maybe a Slurpee. Yet, in one fell stroke, he was throwing it all away.

They shop owner carefully untangled the bills and stuffed them in his register's empty tray as the machine noisily printed out a receipt.

"Enjoy your…"

The boy was already pushing his way out the door.

"Don't you want your receipt?" He yelled

Will hurried home, the book pressed to his chest. Nothing else mattered but the book. An old woman was approaching from the opposite direction. Would she try to take it? He pressed it so hard to his chest, it became hard to breathe. She passed by and didn't make a move. Will sighed with relief and hurried on his way.

Later…

It normally took about twenty minutes to make it home. Yet, to Will, it seemed to take forever. Every open window, every passing car held someone wanting to take the book. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He felt so naked in the open like this.

Odd feelings came to him with every person he passed. Inexplicably, he could tell what emotions they felt. All humans are empathic to a limited degree with the help of facial expressions or some such but Will could feel deeper impressions, things no one should be able to feel.

A balding man dressed in a gray three pieced suit and toting a black briefcase hurried by. Will could feel waves of anger and fear radiating off his huffing form. His anger came from his car's dead battery and the fear for being late to work. But even odder, the boy wanted to follow the man and feel more. The compulsion was so great, his bones actually ached. If not for his obsession with getting the book to safety, he may have been frightened.

At long last he stood in his homes front yard. He should feel safe here, protected. Yet a part of him wanted to run and hide. Someone was inside, someone who might take the book or harm him. Instead of coming in through the front door and possibly attracting the intruder's attention, Will snuck in through the open garage door.

He emerged into the hallway from the laundry room, right into his mother who was hauling in a hamper full of his father's freshly laundered underwear and pajamas.

"That was quick." She snickered

Her face seemed alien, unfamiliar. Instead of coming up with some witty quip, he could just cock his head.

"Dear?" She asked

"Tired?" He finally managed

"Are you feeling okay? You look awfully pale."

She reached out to touch his forehead but Will stepped back, avoiding her hand.

"Fine." He confirmed and hustled past her to his room.

Once inside he closed the door and locked it. Phew!

He sat on the edge of his bed and reopened the book. Will flipped through the pages he already read to the next blank one. He rubbed it with his hand and distinctively Egyptian hieroglyphics appeared. The most he knew about Egypt was from the Universal Mummy movies. Yet, he knew exactly what it meant.

"Empty." He droned

He heard a rustling from the small blue cage on the desk. A small brown animal emerged from its nest and looked Will over. The animal had a name didn't it? God for the life of him he couldn't remember it! He could feel the animals' excitement: it thought he had brought it food. How did he know this?

Instead of feeding Lex, he flipped ahead in the book. Nothing else mattered.

That evening…

"Empty" It read from the last page

What was this place? Everything looked unfamiliar. In such confusion he was, he didn't notice the book on his lap collapsing in on itself and disintegrating in a pile of dust. Nor did he see the scabbed wounds on his forearm fading away. Suddenly a light knock on the door made him jump.

"Dear? 'A woman's voice called' Dinner's ready."

He cringed. Every part of him wanted to run from the voice and this place, hide from their eyes. She knocked louder.

"Dear?"

Fear emanated from the form behind the door. She feared him didn't she? She hated him and wanted to hurt him. He wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

"L….leave" He stuttered

He heard the footsteps run off back down the hallway and distant worried words. Suddenly they returned but whomever the intruder was, had not come alone. The newcomer was worried as well.

"Will? Open the door…NOW." The male demanded

The fear outside had reached a crescendo, radiating through the wooden door like an x ray. The only thing keeping it from running away was his overwhelming desire to feel more. His voided soul ached, as if it desired something from them.

One of the intruders slammed itself against the door, attempting to force it open. They were coming to hurt him! The newborn Spirit Drinker jumped to his feet and leapt over the bed. It instinctively willed for his body to become shadow and he phased through the back wall of his room.

It was just turning dusk outside. He felt the dark of the oncoming night comforting. No one could see him here, people will leave him alone. He ran along the side of the strange house and back down the drive way. It stopped at the front sidewalk and took a last look back. A feeling within the creature felt like he should know this place. But the feeling dissipated just as fast as it appeared.

He turned and disappeared in the dark.

Present day…

"And you just ran away?" Katie confirmed

Will nodded.

"How long were you gone?"

"Twenty five years."

"Did you ever go home again?"

"Later when I regained my human side, I brought Rae home to meet them."

"What was that like?" She asked genuinely curious

He bowed his head.

"There were strangers living there. My parents were dead…had been for years."

Sniffles and gasps could be heard from off stage.

"I'm sorry." Katie said with sincerity

In New York…

A naked Starfire turned from her foot tall stack of butter and syrup plastered waffles.

"OH NO!" She gasped

Hall watched her reaction

"But you lived with him for so long. Didn't you already know that?"

Instead of answering, she hugged Hall tight enough to turn his face purple.

"They were dead." She sniffled

"Um: there, there." He choked

Back at Wayne R and D…

The laughter and snickering quickly transmuted to sniffles and stifled sobs. Harold, their Janitor, produced a box of tissues and began handing them out.

"But we all had pretty sucky childhoods. 'Cyborg interjected' Rae's father was a hell spawn, Star was a slave and Robin's parents…"

"There were strangers living there." Rachel, his secretary and current love interest bawled.

In the studio lobby…

At long last. No televisions or any other indication of how big a fool her husband was making of himself. Raven settled in the one of the black pleather seats, produced her small book of death Haikus and quietly meditated.

In spite of her concentration, she couldn't help but notice how the studio staff looked exceptionally downtrodden. One of Jamie Summer's personal assistants walked up to her. The woman's face was blushed and her eyes were red and glassy.

"What?" Raven finally asked

"I…I" She sniffled through her Kleenex

"WHAT?" She asked again

"C-could you give something to Will for me?"

"Depends on what that "something" is."

The woman bent down, wrapped her arms around Raven and gave her a big hearty hug.

Back in the Studio…

Suddenly the stage lurched. A loud crash could be heard from off camera and a cloud of concrete dust momentarily obscured the stage. This was live television so Katie had no choice but to go with the situation.

"What in the hell was that?" She coughed

"Eh, someone tried to hug Rae again. Now where were we?"

"Aenoch left home?"

"Right. At that point he still wasn't Aenoch: he didn't even have a name. Everything I was: my memories and personality had been torn away leaving a confused and mute gray skinned blank. But unlike the Spirit Drinker's ancient counterparts who had some measure of guidance during the transformation, he was alone. And even worse, he was beginning to have certain urges…"

Back in 86…

It stumbled down the dark garbage filled alleyway behind the 7-11. To keep from falling it braced itself against the graffiti covered brick wall.

Just minutes ago the weakness and pain crushed him like a ton of bricks. It felt like every muscle and hair was screaming. What was causing this? But as confused as it was, one thing was clear: he wasn't going to survive the night. He had existed for less than an hour yet already he was going to die? He collapsed to his knees, his body shivering from the pain.

The Spirit Drinker perked. Something was close by, something it knew would take the pain away. It hauled itself back to his sneakered feet and instinctively forced his way towards the source.

The payphone outside the 7-11…

Howard Derby had moved to Sunnydale from Winnipeg just a week ago and already was having more than his share of regrets. Not only did they not sell his beer here, but Hockey was nearly unheard of. And to top it off, his car decided to conk out. The only bright spot was his finding of this payphone.

"Hey hon. Yeah the car crapped out, I need you to pick me up."

He received some sort of unfavorable reply.

"Goddammit I don't give a shit if the A Team is on! Get your…"

The sound of shuffling feet caught his attention. He turned to the oppressive dark beyond the brightly lit storefront

"Who's there?" Howard asked nervously

Out of the dark appeared a pair of emotionless eyes. They reflected the stores green and red sign, giving them an unnatural glowing quality. Maybe some drunk or pervert. But whoever owned them had taken a seriously unhealthy interest.

"Look pal. 'Howard warned with a façade of wavering calm' I've had a real bad day and don't need any crap."

The eyes remained fixed on him. Maybe a gay looking for some action? Oh Christ that's just what he needed.

"Okay, I'm calling the police. 'He said hanging up the phone and fishing his pockets for another quarter' Let them deal with your ass."

The shuffling returned and his stalker emerged from the dark. Howard dropped the phone and stepped back. The thing was dressed in blue jeans and Iron Maiden shirt. Although obviously a teenager, its skin was a deathly gray and the things eyes were two forest green marbles.

"Oh crap."

Zombie boy cocked his head in confusion.

"Crap" It mimicked

"Look pal, I don't know what you're up to…"

"Up…to?" It repeated

A brain damaged vampire? Cripes he heard Sunnydale was a weird place but damn!

"Um, yeah. 'He chuckled uncomfortably while turning and walking away' Well, gotta go."

"Go"

Howard carefully listened. Whatever that thing was, it was following. He broke into a full tilt sprint.

"Leave me alone hoser!"

"Hoser"

He desperately looked for any passing cars to wave down. Shit! Where are the cops and cruisers when you need them? He glanced back at the store. It was gone.

"Thank Christ." He sighed and turned away.

The thing was standing just a foot before him. How was this possible? Howard backed away.

"L-look. I'm getting married next week. Please…"

It lunged forward, grabbed his ears with its cold steely hands and with unearthly strength, forced their eyes together.

"Please"

But instead of bearing his fangs and chomping his neck like most garden variety vampires would do, the thing's emotionless eyes became pulsing black whirlpools. Howard's feelings of fear and anger began to fade away. Along with it also went his depression over his crappy job at the Atari factory, his impotence last night, even that Twinkie he pilfered when he was two.

His arms and legs began to fail. It was killing him!

"Stop" He whimpered

But it couldn't. Its instincts were to eat and unfortunately for Howard, it was starving. The world around him began to spin.

"Stop"

The human passed out in the kids steely arms. The pain was gone and strength had returned to it's legs.

For what felt like hours, the Spirit Drinker stood in the dark with his victim's body. He had only existed for a day and already he had taken a life. What was he supposed to do now?

As its voided mind struggled to wrap around what had just happened, black freezing vapors began to waft from the gray skin of his bare arms. He was losing what he ate?

The Spirit Drinker gently dragged the body to the side of the road and laid it out on the grass of the road shoulder. It could see the truth now: he was a monster, a feeder on souls. And judging by the way he felt, it would be just a matter of time before it would need to kill again.

It ran into the dark.

Present day…

"Wow 'Katie managed' He had actually killed someone?"

"Actually, no he hadn't. After some research, Robin confirmed that Aenoch had just stunned the guy. In fact, Howard left his train wreck of a life behind and founded an "Up with People" commune in Montana somewhere."

"But Aenoch thought he was a murderer." She confirmed

"Uh-huh. And for someone barely a day old, it didn't exactly help matters. He stumbled in the dark all night and wound up in a campground on the outskirts of town. The sun was rising so he crawled under a bush and dozed. But as luck would have it, someone else had the same idea."

That next evening…

"Dance, dance, where ever you may be. I am the lord of the dance said he and I'll lead you all, where ever you may be and I'll lead you all in the dance said he." A raspy voice happily sang.

It snapped awake. A scruffy, dark skinned man with a head full of dreadlocks and wearing a battered black trench coat had set up camp just outside the Spirit Drinkers hiding place. It could feel humans from miles away, how was this one able to get so close? It made to flee.

"Don't sweat it kid, I ain't gonna hurt ya." The intruder calmly assured

He had built a campfire in the cement barbeque pit and was roasting a few open cans of what looked like generic Spaghetti Os on the grill.

"Hungry? Plenty to go 'round." He offered

It shrank away.

"Gotta warn ya kid: its' got cut up wieners."

Of course food held no longer held the slightest interest but this intruder's friendly invitation got the better of him. It cautiously crawled out of its bush and made his way to the fire.

"Yeah. 'He chuckled' no one can resist the cholesterol laden allure of Spaghetti Os. Have a seat."

It squatted down and held his hands out to the human's fire to warm them. The flames were a good size yet he felt nothing through his cold gray skin. It appeared that comfort of any kind was unattainable.

"Didn't mean to wake ya but being in the midst of the creation like this makes me want to sing."

The Spirit Drinker watched the intruder and cocked his head. All emotions were an open book to it. Why wasn't this stranger scared of him? In fact, he was feeling nothing but joy. He turned away from the fire and faced the Spirit Drinker with piercing ice blue eyes.

"Name's Gabriel, pleased to make your acquaintance." He said offering his hand.

It cautiously took his hand and shook it. The warmth of the human's aura oozed over Aenoch, making his thick skin tingle.

"Geez. 'He gasped' you're ice cold. Here, take this…"

The stranger immediately stripped off his over coat and handed it to the Spirit Drinker. He took the garment in his hands and looked it over. Gabriel's generous and selfless gesture threw it for a loop.

"Ain't got no cooties I know of. You need it more than I do."

As he slipped it on, the black freezing vapors leaking from his arms appeared to gather in the dark confines of the coats interior. He found the dark heavy fabric oddly comforting.

"I introduced myself, you gotta follow suit…don't be rude now."

It cocked his head in confusion.

"Don't you have a name?"

Actually, that was an excellent question. Its blank mind struggled in vain to find one. Out of the Spirit Drinkers voided psyche, only a single name appeared. It held some meaning but what the connection was eluded him.

"Ae-noch?"

"Hippie parents eh? Look on the bright side kid: it could've been Ringo or Rainbow. My friend in Gotham? He named his kid Sukiyaki and they ain't even Japanese."

Gabriel took a red bandanna from his baggy pants pocket and carefully lifted one of the steaming cans from the grill.

"Help yourself."

Aenoch took the remaining can from the barbeque. The cold gray skin of his hands hissed from the can's intense heat but the Spirit Drinker did not react. He curiously smelled the cans starchy and pinkish-red contents. Its stomach had no desire for food- or this slop for that matter. Gabriel poked the decidedly gelatinous Spaghetti Os with his spork and sneered.

"Yeah, you're right. 'He sighed and put the can off to the side' How come the contents never look as good as the label? My fault for not buying the name brand"

They sat quietly and admired the fire.

"So, what are ya doing out here in the middle of nowhere? You don't look like the wilderness type what with your sneakers and all"

"No…where?"

"You too? Yeah I guess this place is a magnet for the unwanted. We all have different reasons for skipping town but manage to wind up in the same place. What's your reason?"

What was it supposed to day? That he killed a man? Instead, he remained silent in the hopes Gabriel would not run away.

"Just for the sake of it hmm? Good enough reason as any I suppose. Me? I'm dying."

The Spirit Drinker froze and turned to him.

"Leukemia. Had a little time left so I thought I'd try to make it home to San Francisco. Seemed appropriate to check back out where I checked in."

The silence continued as Aenoch absorbed the intruder's confession. Odd thing, it had no effect on Gabriel's joy. If anything, his happiness increased. To the Spirit Drinker it was more comforting than the fire.

"Yeah, I know I could've have taken a bus but I wanted to see the Golden Gate on foot. Ever seen it? Quite a sight to behold."

Gabriel rolled out his ragged green bedroll by the fire and stretched.

"You're more'n welcome to tag along Aenoch. Being on the lam is better with someone to talk to."

The Spirit Drinkers only thought was to leave the area. Although preferring to be alone, the warmth given by this human was too comforting to leave. Aenoch just nodded.

"Swell. We'll split tomorrow morning. G'night." He said and dozed off.

That night…

Dreams have been described as the neurological equivalent of a cow chewing its cud. Without physical stimuli, the brain dredges up memories and thoughts and swishes them around like mouthwash. Sometimes they make sense, sometimes not. But whatever they entail, they are particular to the dreamer.

But Aenoch was barely a day old and had no memories. So as a consequence his dreams were equally empty. Although the dreamscape was blank and without form, he was quite conscious and utterly confused.

Out of the shadows, a deep billowing laughter echoed. Aenoch cowered from the overwhelming sound. It was as if all the anger and hate in the world had been brought to life and tossed in the dream with him. It felt the opposite of Gabriel's warmth, burning the Spirit Drinker like boiling oil.

A set of glowing red eyes twice Aenochs height opened and turned to him. They had no pupils but instead burned with a hatred that made the Spirit Drinker sick. Aenoch stepped back, another identical set opened right above them. Four eyes? Even with its innocence and immaturity Aenoch knew that four eyes were unnatural.

The laughter raised in tempo, literally crushing Aenoch to the ground. Whatever this thing was, it found his pain and confusion quite entertaining.

Aenoch snapped awake to find Gabriel sound asleep on his bedroll. The human's aura of warmth and happiness issued forth even as he slept. Instead of falling asleep again and possibly bumping into the laughing monster, Aenoch reveled in Gabriel's warmth.

Just before daybreak…

Gabriel packed up his few meager possessions and they left the camping spot. Aenoch should have felt vulnerable in the open like this but being around his new friend gave him a new found sense of security. He followed a few steps behind.

"Yeah, nothing like an early start. 'He sighed while slinging his bedroll over his shoulder' Morning dew in on the ground and a cool breeze in the air. It's like the world is still sleeping ya know?"

Aenoch couldn't feel a thing but took his word for it. They reached the park's main exit and stopped by the roadside. Across the blacktop was an upper scale housing development, not too dissimilar to the one Aenoch escaped the night before. There was little traffic due to the early hour. Before they crossed, Gabriel took a careful look up and down the deserted street.

"Oops!"

He abruptly took Aenoch by the arm and led him away from the street and into the tree line.

"Hide" He said ducking down and motioning Aenoch to follow suit.

"What…" Aenoch whispered while joining his friend on the ground

Gabriel just held a finger to his puckered lips. A black and white police cruiser slowly rumbled up and slowed to a crawl. The searchlight mounted on the drivers side door switched on and carefully scanned the woods.

The officer's emotions were an open book to the Spirit Drinker; they were looking for someone in particular. A name came to him: William? They are looking for someone named William?

The searchlight switched off and the police car sped away. Once they were safely out of sight, Gabriel stood.

"Don't need problems from the man, they look down on our ilk."

"Ilk?" Aenoch asked cocking his head

"Yeah. Transient brothers and umm, gray skinned teenagers in black trench coats. Best keep to the back roads until we leave town."

They jogged across the street and into the neighboring suburbs. All the windows of the homes were quiet and dark. Aenoch could actually feel the people inside sleeping. It was a muddle of different emotions and thoughts cemented together by an overwhelming feeling of relaxation. The Spirit Drinker wished he knew what it was like. He wondered if the four eyed monster visited them too.

Once they had passed a few houses, the pair ducked behind a parked forest green Pinto. Gabriel again carefully looked around.

"Coast is clear." He confirmed

They ran farther down the sidewalk, Gabriel taking the lead. Suddenly a pair of headlights turned onto the far end of the street and slowly rumbled towards them.

"Crap!"

They vaulted over a row of neatly trimmed hedges and ducked low amongst the bugs and mud. Aenoch and Gabriel peeked through a clear spot below the bushes and watched the car as it passed by.

It was a bulky blue station wagon with imitation wooden sides. The female driver inside was gazing out the window and carefully scanning the surrounding homes and yards. Aenoch sensed she was also looking for this "William" person. But unlike the officers they avoided earlier, this one felt great fear and worry. So much in fact, she was crying.

The car slowly turned the corner and disappeared. The pair climbed out from behind the hedge and back onto the sidewalk.

"Not much farther now. 'Gabriel whispered and continued down the sidewalk' we'll be safe when we're out of the suburbs."

After a dozen more nearly identical homes, the neighborhood ended and was replaced by rows of small stores. Like the neighborhood they had just traversed, the small storefronts were dark- no on inside though. The garland wrapped light poles and hanging snowflakes caught the Spirit Drinkers eyes. He froze and attempted to comprehend the gaudy decorations. Gabriel noticed Aenochs interest.

"It's Christmas." He explained

"Christ…mas?"

"Yeah. An important religious holiday that has degraded into the foil and plastic nightmare you see here."

Sadly, such observances are meant for people, not creatures such as he. He wondered if the man he killed had a family waiting at home to celebrate Christmas too. They turned away from the display and ran behind the rows of stores into the garbage strewn back alley. Once sure they had not been followed, Gabriel at last relaxed.

"They never come back here; all the action's out front" The human explained

The sun was just starting to rise above the horizon, lightly illuminating the alleyway. As they fumbled their way through the ocean of garbage cans and cardboard bales, Aenoch kept attention to Gabriels moods. Except for some feelings of worry when they ran for cover, his warm feelings had not ebbed in the least.

"But the toot- toot- toot don't mean a hoot…it's the chug-a-lug-lug that makes it go." He sang to himself

The alleyway ended and they happened upon the same 7-11 Aenoch killed the human. He shrunk back for fear of seeing his body. Gabriel stepped back and patted the Spirit Drinker assuredly on the shoulder.

"I understand. Neon blue Slurpees and microwave burritos scare me too. Just keep looking ahead and for gosh sakes don't look the clerk in the eyes…he might try to sell us some of those magic naked girl pens."

The pair walked rapidly by the store, not looking at the storefront or half asleep clerk inside. If Aenoch had been paying attention, he might have noticed the MISSING CHILD poster emblazoned with his own visage hanging in the window.

Right beyond the store was the freeway. The usually congested thoroughfare was relatively empty due to the holiday season and early hour.

"And we are safe." Gabriel sighed with relief.

It did feel good being away from the "7-lls" and "Slurpees". Gabriel took a deep breath and made his way down the freeway.

They passed a large brightly colored billboard:

YOU ARE NOW LEAVING SUNNYDALE

Remember to buckle up and Just Say NO!

Sunnydale? Sadly the name meant nothing to the Spirit Drinker. They left the sign and Wills home far behind.