The flames of hellfire danced around the dark-haired boy, the scarlet blazes surrounding him as the forever burned in the depths of the home of the damned. The humanly unbearable heat was nothing compared to how it normally was; Hell wasn't the most air conditioned place though it was still a crowded hot spot.

The boy glared into the fire, rubies burning with a brooding anger as he watched the yellow, orange, and red sway in a heated never ending brawl. His thoughts still lingered in his days on earth—not that he was there too often—as he thought about a certain few children in a certain mountain whose jeers and cruelty still bothered him like a claw in a lion's paw.

"You'd think they'd respect the son of the Satan..." He muttered bitterly, hugging his knees to his chest as he brooded, "Why...They should learn to fear the name Damien...Don't those insolent humans realise what I could do to them..."

Damien gazed into the fire, seeing in the flames seven of his least favourite people, each one of their faces sickening to the antichrist. He scowled, looking over each one with disgust and faint pity.

"Why...I could name everything about you seven..." Damien chuckled darkly, taking a long look at each one before focusing his attention on the first head the flames showed. This first image in the fire showed a boy, about Damien's ripe age of seventeen or so (although all of them were), with a messy crop of black hair covered by a marine hat adorned with a red puffball. Despite being painted in the fire, the boy's eyes were still a stunning cobalt blue, a colour that seemed to mock the demonic teen staring into them.

"You..." Damien said slowly, addressing the head in the flames, "Stanley Randall Marsh... You and all your friends have mocked me for too long. Of course there's you and your fucking jock perfection... Football, soccer, hockey, what the fuck can't you do? And you're such a humanitarian with your love for the other creatures of the earth, going out of your way just to save a fucking piece of crap animal that was put there to die in the first place. Oh, you're life's just perfect with your best friends and your girlfriend and your motherfucking popularity. And yet you have some depression issue still, you over emotional bastard, and let's not forget your little incidents of substance abuse..." He chuckled darkly, knowing well that Stan couldn't actually hear all the verbal abuse being directed at him, but still feeling damn good about saying it, "We see everything that goes on with you here in Hell, Marsh... And we still hold grudges..."

With that, Damien scoffed, turning to the next image in line. He was rather ill-delighted to see the head of the only Jewish boy in the town he'd grown to loathe, the red curls even more vivid in the light of the fire, though most remained hidden by the ushanka the boy never seemed to take off. The emeralds beset on his pale face were revolting to Damien, filling him with even more angst-triggered rage than Stan.

"Ah, Kyle Broflovski," He greeted the next head, "The only Jewish resident in all of South Park. You proud motherfucker, with your Jersey heritage and your daywalker nature... You spend all your time with books and studies like a little nerd who should get mocked and thrown in a trash can and yet your super best friend acts as your popularity shield. Yeah, you can shoot a basketball pretty well, but your shots with girls are never gone for. Why? Well maybe you're just a little Jewish faggot who won't admit it, but I suppose you're the only one who can answer that. I doubt you'd admit anything anyway, seeing your mother would go psycho-bitch on you and maybe your little friendship with Marsh wouldn't protect you any longer from a little ridicule...Do you know what it's like to be made fun of, Kyle? Of course you know the fatass' usual bullshit, but how about when everyone in the entire school save for one starts to mock and tease you all at the same time for little or no reason, hmm? I bet you don't know..." He shook his head, slowly switching to glance at the next figure, "You'll soon learn..."

Again, Damien was burnt by brilliant eyes of blue, though these sapphires belonged to a blond with dirty blond hair and orange parka. He'd seen his face more times than the others, not having to be on earth to meet with one who wasn't just a mere mortal. However, even if they weren't physically encountering it didn't stop the dark-haired boy from gagging, nearly smelling the poor boy's rancid constant stench of booze and tobacco mixed with motor oil and dirt.

"Kenneth McCormick, so we meet yet again..." Damien drawled, "Poor as shit and yet you've still created quite a reputation for yourself. Well, one based off your dick, but a reputation none the less. No one really knows why you keep coming back... That Cthulhu stuff is a bit sketchy after all. You always bitch about how much it hurts to die and then have no one care to remember. What a fucking pity to be able to have life come back to your corpse and have you able to walk around town like nothing happened when you technically should be rotting down here with me like a normal human. Not to mention you're the reason my father lost the battle for Heaven...You fucking Keanu Reeves... And you were the chosen one why? Because you could play a fucking video game? You broke the Mormon rule despite the fact that you've taken every substance in the book, drank every cocktail you could get your grimy hands on, and then fucked just about everything that'll move and has a place for your cock. I bet it feels damn great to know you've fucked a good percentage of the school. But I wonder if you'll ever tell who you care about that you have feelings other than horny and retard. Or is that just all you are; a horny retard."

He moved to the next image with another scoff, having seen enough of Kenny in his never ending lifetime. Next was the fat boy that even Satan would love to kick in the face, his hair and eyes the same colour as the Hersheys he enjoyed scarffing down, his cyan and yellow hat not making his appearance any less ghastly to the demon. Damien could almost feel a few chunks of barf crawl up his throat.

"Ugh...Eric Theodore Cartman...Everyone's least favourite person..." Damien sneered, "You're not big boned for fuck's sake; you're just a fat turd. You're so-called friends don't even like you; you just mooch off them and hang out with them like some overweight leech. And yet you're still somehow tolerated despite the fact that you verbally abuse everyone daily? You're a ball of hate after all, considering you've tried multiple times to do what Adolf down here failed to in the forties. Of course you, you racist son of a bitch, would feel no remorse in killing your own father and yet the only tears you ever shed for him were over the fact that you're 'half ginger'...You make me look like a saint, lard ass! I'm evil by birth though I've yet to feed my half-brother—though I don't even have one—my father and his mother in a bowl of chilli then lick his 'sweet saddened tears' after embarrassing him in front of his favourite band. That is, I've yet to be that cruel... Just know that you're going to have competition..."

The next one the boy scorned at was a girl, her hazel eyes and flowing black hair beautiful to many, but nauseating to Damien.

"Wendy Testaburger, hmm?" He cocked a brow, "The liberal feminist activist and girlfriend of the school quarterback Stan Marsh. Everyone knows you well, what with all your political activity in the school. You're far smarter than most of the town and you take what you want as it's yours...However that's likely why you have your boyfriend under such lock and key. You couldn't stand the possibility of losing Stan to anyone, so you basically threaten and bully anyone who dares to get near him. It's not that bad a philosophy, seeing as you've managed to make it work out, but all that envy and self-righteousness can get you into deep trouble, you bitch. Aside from your hatred towards the fatass—and that underlying foe yay that could be a reason for a few of your outbursts—there are a few other enemies you can easily make through jealousy. Don't think that everyone loves you oh so much...you may act 'for the people' but you're using that more as a slogan to cover up how much of a selfish bitch you are deep down. But everyone will know soon enough your true nature..."

A curly blonde was the sixth in line, Damien shuddering at the site of the girl, glowering into her blue eyes. Of course, he was on the lesser threats at this point, though he was still holding a couple more resentments.

"Bebe Stevens, why lookie there..." The boy said in mock cheer, "The greedy little slut cheerleader everyone knows and loves. Must be nice to have an automatic charm that gets all the boys to come to you, huh? Of course, that charm happens to come in a pair on your chest. But doesn't everyone see how freaking bitchy you are? True, you and Wendy are friends again now, but you remember the times you've abandoned her and even tried to kill her, correct? And over what? Shoes? You just want to keep your popularity and your little spot on top...You're just a cunt that has to have what she wants and have a lot of it... Well you'll get more than you'll want soon enough..."

Damien looked at the final face, rolling his eyes at the angel-faced teenager with the face of a child. The tuff of bright yellow hair on the top of his head revolted Damien, the crystal blue eyes only adding to his sickness.

"Leopold Stotch..." The demonic boy grumbled, "Better known as Butters, for whatever reason. You're the living Peter Pan, you know? At least in mind, considering you're basically a seven year old trapped in a body ten years the soul's senior. You live everything like motherfucking rainbows and butterflies and goddamn sunshine, huh? Nothing bad, even if your parents do constantly ground you for no reason and even if you are periodically beaten by your father who you caught sleeping around with other men. I bet you don't even know what 'bi-curious' means after all these years, even though you act gay for the fatass and happen to be the only one who gives a rat's ass about him in a positive light. I wonder when you'll get a clue. Fuck, one of these days maybe you'll feed off that ignorance surrounding you and become as round as Cartman is. Seriously...what the fuck is wrong with you, you moronic faggot?"

With that, the antichrist groaned, shooting dirty looks at each of the heads again, recalling all the tormenting words he remembered so clearly that they'd thrown at him. After all this time he thought maybe he'd move on...but for some reason it all just stuck with him and poked at him, constantly buzzing in his angst-filled skull like a mosquito.

But now, it was time for the bug to get swatted.

A twisted smirk came to Damien's face, eyes shining with a devilish cunning idea that popped into his warped mind.

"Well..." He said, folding his hands over one another as he plotted, "Perhaps you failed to respect me before...But I'm sure you'll all learn your lessons when you come under my reign... And perhaps I should welcome you to my future kingdom... In fact... I'll send you each gifts in advance!"

With a snap of the boy's fingers, an ebony box appeared, opening up to reveal seven vials each with a worn Latin label that said what was inside.

Superbia.

Gula.

Invidia.

Luxuria.

Avaritia.

Acedia.

Ira.

Each little vial contained the seven cardinal deadly sins; the ones that would seal a person's fate in Hell for all eternity. Damien was well educated in the art of dark magic and sins, so he was well aware of the fact that a concentrated amount of any one sin could lead to a human's self destruction and eternal damnation. But now it was time to test it out.

Damien grabbed the first vial, taking out the one labelled 'Superbia', his smirk widening as he saw the murky violet cloud inside.

"Pride," Damien announced, "Now who will get the first sin of the night? It was the one of Lucifer, you know. Any takers for the sin that will make them completely proud? You'll never be wrong, by your standards! The virtue of self respect can truly be embraced, now how wants to be proud?"

Only the crackle of the hellfire and the faint screams of tortured souls filled the air, not a single one of the images in the fire able to answer. Even though Damien knew there wouldn't be a response, he still frowned.

"Hmmm...I suppose I'll choose for you then..." He muttered, looking at each of the seven, "And I...choose..." His eyes locked on the 'proudest' of the bunch, using the boy's religious pride as an excuse to give him such a sin, "Kyle..."

The devil boy aimed the vial at the Jew's image and opened it, popping off the cork to release a mauve spirit. The sinful spirit shot out of the glass, headed straight for the redhead's image, travelling through his likeness in the flames, turning the picture purple as the spirit vanished, using it as a portal to travel to the peaceful Broflovski home.


Kyle slept gently in his bed, breathing softly as he rested his head on the soft pillow. He wasn't dreaming tonight, simply frozen in a blissful state of slumber. He knew not of the purple cloud that entered his room, not noticing the proud spirit loom over him with an ominous glow.

The spirit, after completely shadowing the Jew's bed, rushed down in a gust of wind, whipping the boy's face as the entity morphed into him, the purple fazing through the pale skin until there wasn't a trace left in his room.

"WHAT THE-?" Kyle shot up, the gust of cold wind disturbing his sleep. Something about that did not feel right. He glanced around, checking every part of his room for something that may have been off, only to conclude that everything was just fine.

Everything except him. He just felt...odd. Yet, nothing else was wrong...

That's strange... Kyle thought, rubbing his eyes, Hell I even shut the window... He paused to glance at the digital clock on his nightstand, catching a glimpse of '3:28 AM' lit in bright green across the screen.

"Mmm..." The redhead groaned, leaning back against the mattress, "Well...maybe it's just..." He let out a yawn, "My...imagination...yeah..."

Without even knowing what had happened, Kyle went back to sleep, unaware of his new pride boost or of his new grim fate.


"Envy! Anyone of you for envy?" Damien asked the other images, "The green-eyed monster can be inside one of you, courtesy of Leviathan!" The ruby eyes of the boy flickered over to the black-haired girl, "Why, Wendy, I think you look perfect for such a sin..."

He reached into the box, pulling out the vial labelled 'Invidia' and shaking the hazy olive spirit inside. Just as he had done when assigning Kyle with pride, he aimed the vial at Wendy before opening it, the green spirit rushing through her face, tinting her with green as it travelled from Hell up to South Park, headed for the Testaburger home.


Wendy slept bundled in a mountain of wool lavender blankets, snuggled up to her pillow and hugging her prized stuffed unicorn Stan one for her at the last Cow Days fair. Her mind drifted in a better place, thinking of her boyfriend she loved with all her heart and imagining some of how she hoped life would be in the future. There always was the fact that you don't typically marry your high school sweetheart; but Wendy didn't really give a crap. She may have had her sights set on Harvard and other Ivy Leagues after graduation—which wasn't for another year or so—but she was still planning on Stan at least getting a scholarship so she wouldn't go alone.

However, her blissful dreaming was to be disrupted, a green cloud oozing through the ajar window and sneaking over to Wendy's bed. The green mist slipped under the sheets, searching for the warm human form of the dark haired girl with a pink beret, the spirit seeping through her skin and filling the girl with envy without her knowledge.

In her sleep, Wendy shuddered, tossing back and forth as goosebumps covered her skin, body alarmed by the supernatural force that had invaded. However, she didn't wake up, simply remaining rigid for a moment, her body checking for a way to fight off this alien force, only for her to relax when there was no way to fight it off. The sin had become one with her; there was no going back.


The next vial from Damien's chest was one filled with a dark azure spirit that swirled inside its glass constraints. In the same elegant script that was scribbled on all the labels, the word 'Luxuria' was written. He knew just who was getting that sin.

"Lust, by the power of Asmeodeus," Damien said, "Goes rightfully to the one with the biggest sex drive..." He turned his attention to the blond in the orange parka, "Kenny, you get this by a unanimous voting."

POP! The cork was off; the blue spirit zooming through the portal of the poor boy's head, ready to be the never ending fodder to an already monstrous sex drive.


Loud snores filled Kenny's room, the blond deep in sleep as a dreadful blue cloud formed at his window. There was no way for the boy to notice anything, his head to far in his dreams to pay attention.

"Mmmh..." He lazily muttered as the spirit neared, "Y-yeah baby...Don't worry if it's ya first time..." He rolled over, "Scream, babe, let it out, but I gotcha, ya know...Hmmm...Yeah..."The obnoxious snoring resumed once again.

The spirit certainly knew it was in the right place, taking that unconscious rambling if wet dreams as a sign that that was the one to be infected.

Through the blond's open mouth, the spirit went down, slithering down Kenny's throat and then spreading through his body, violent shudders shaking him in his slumber.

"H-h-hey honey..." Kenny murmured, thinking it was all just a rough spot of the dream, "S'ok...Shh...No need to fucking shake the bed...Errything's gonna be...fine..."

He had no idea how wrong he was.


"My father is personally acquainted with this one," Damien said, holding up the vial for 'Ira' that had a crimson sin contained inside, "Wrath..." The boy's ruby eyes shot immediately over to the wrathful racist bigot that seemed fit for taking on such a sin, "Cartman, you already are a raging bull...I'm sure that a little more wouldn't cause too much damage..."

POP! The crimson spirit rushed to the image of Eric Cartman, course set for the fat boy's bedroom.

"Oh wait..." Damien smirked, "It will cause more damage! AHA!"


As Eric Cartman clung tightly to Clyde Frog, deafening snores leaving his mouth as a bit of drool dribbled down his face. Like his other 'friends', he was unaware that a spirit was coming for him, his sleep unbroken by the random formation of the red puff in the corner of his room.

His thoughts were far too focused on yet another dream in which he humiliated Kyle completely and ended up getting a load of women and KFC, laughing as the Jew sobbed his eyes out over his complete defeat before getting hit by a car along with Kenny who just happened to cross the street at the wrong time. It was a wonderful dream, so why would he bother with waking up and noticing the crimson mist lurching over him?

The spirit didn't see Cartman making his move, seizing the opportunity and engulfing the tubby boy, encircling him in an aura of wrath before morphing through him.

Eric stirred in his sleep, making a few whines and groans, the wrath entering him sparking him to get an upset stomach in his break.

Goddammit, gimme more Colonel! He grumbled in his dream, I did not just humiliate Jewrat only to have my fried cheeken cut off! ASSHOLES! Screw you guys! I'm going home!


"Hmm...I seem to be leaning on some of my last few sins..." Damien sighed, pulling out the next vial, Avaritia. The dark-haired on smiled at the cloudy lemony colour of the spirit in the vial, already having a feeling who he'd give the next one too, "Mammon's Greed is next, and I think I know a certain cheerleader who'd be perfect..."

Once the cork was off, the golden yellow spirit headed for Bebe, a sickly yellow tinge coming to her picture in the fire as the greed left for the Stevens residence.


Bebe slumbered peacefully in her bed, perfectly at ease with her mind dancing in her fantasy of shoes and boys. She was known to act a tad shallow and slutty at times, but at heart she did know what was right...she just loved to have a good time was all. Besides, what was a better place to imagine having fun than in her own dreams?

However, as she slept, a yellow mist drifted through the air of her room, all of the greed slowly going from the atmosphere and into the sleeping blonde.

Bebe shook, feeling her skin crawl as, for a moment, her dreams stopped being wonderful and awesome and became...black...just black...

She was confused a long moment, tempted to wake up from that weird sudden pause in her dreams, though everything resumed before she could regain consciousness, the invasion of the spirit ending up being shrugged off as just an odd thing that happened in the night and nothing she had to be concerned about.


"Two of you left now..." Damien said, pawing around in the chest as he looked between the only two figures not tinted with sin, "Let's see what our next option is, shall we?"

He grasped another vial, yanking out one that contained a misty cyan sin. On the label, the word 'Acedia' was written.

"Sloth," He said, "Now, Belphegor created this as the desire of rest and the lack of drive to do work..." A sparkle came to his eyes when he looked at Mr. Sports Star, "And that includes sports...So, I think you can take a little break Stan..."POP! "You're sports career can go on hold for a while..."


Stan slept solidly, everything in his room completely still as his chest rose and fell with every deep breath. Did he know of Damien's scheme? Not at all. Was he thinking at all of Hell or sins or sloth? Those were the farthest things from his mind, really. He was just asleep, somewhere where he could escape his idiotic parents and the other assholes of the world, and somewhere where no one could reach him.

Little did he realise the danger he was in, for the spirit which had travelled through the portal in hell was swirling in a menacing circle around him as he slumbered, the spirit surveying the athletic boy carefully before rushing into him in a gust, filling his muscles with peace and relaxation.

Although the cold air did tempt him to awaken and check on what was going on, he felt slightly more relaxed after the gust hit him. If anything, the teen fell deeper into sleep, already falling a victim to the sin that was going to corrupt him.


"Gula..." Damien sighed, pulling out the last vial, staring at the tangerine coloured spirit a bit sadly, wishing that there were more sins he could unleash, "Beelzebub's good old gluttony is our final sin... Looks like Butters is just going to be wanting a bit more of everything now..."

The final cork popped, the last of the spirits breaking free and headed for South Park.


Butters slept soundly, smiling in his sleep as his usual happy mood was even more elated in his dream world. He was the creator for the reason, after all.

But, one thing Butters didn't create—and would never want to—was the damned cloud that was coming towards him at full speed, the spirit wanting to get in so badly there wasn't going to be any ominous lingering as the teenager slept.

"Oh jeez..." The blond jumped in his sleep, somehow remaining unconscious as the gluttony raced through his veins. The sudden sinful rush, as it died down, only lulled the boy deeper into sleep, the new corruption inside him happy to find a practically pure home to destroy.


In the depths of Hell, a place of despair and misery, Damien stood with the largest grin in the world plastered onto his face, dropping the last vial on the ground with the other six.

All seven of the deadly sins were released, ready to spread havoc through the little mountain town in Colorado that was the cause of much of his grief, the seven people he held most responsible having their fates sealed as future residents of the damned land.

And he was damn proud.

"Now..." Damien sighed, "I just need to sit back and watch..." Cold, dark chuckles left his throat, his irises glowing bright crimson as he cackled over the flames' crackles.

He knew he'd be in for quite a show.


A/N: Phew! Glad I got that all out. Y-yeah, I wasn't gonna start this for a while...but I was reading over Possession {since I think the only fanfiction I've ever really read was Courtanie's...Ehehe} and...I guess the inspiration just came. Kinda funny, eh? Well I wasn't wasting it, so I got up at three in the morning and wrote until -glances at clock- 7:35 AM. Wow I am so lucky no one caught me up or I'd be dead since I got a shiteload of work xDD;;

Blah blah, sorry I talk about myself. Anyway, I feel like I should say now that Damien is a bit...harsh right now. You'll see why later! But don't underestimate the son of the devil, gaiz. And I kinda got lazy towards the end and was all "RAAAAAAAAWR" so that's why you can see how I gradually got less in depth. That and I kinda went from characters I work with a lot/write a lot to ones I don't write as much with/dislike.

Alright...I have no idea when this would get an update. It's honestly up to you guys. So R&R! Seriously you do not know how happy your reviews make me. Sometimes they can get me so happy I write like...entire chapters based off the hype. Of course I have other updates and all that and life has to get in the way but if you want more, say something!

And if you wanna ask about pairings...Erm...I kinda don't entirely know myself. I mean I kinda do, but at the same time there may be additional ones or knocking off a few. I suppose I can say that all the pairs I usually write are gonna be in here...though there may be some more too.

Pfff, I talk way way too much. Your turn! So leave a review and all that bullshit and um...yeah. :D Ineedmoresleepl-lol. ~CQO