…Three Months Later…
Sweating and panting from the exhaustion of his training, Tweek stumbled past the bed his body so desperately wanted to collapse on and into the bathroom to shower. He stunk, and that stink was so much worse than his fatigue, so he knew a shower would be best before he crashed.
He locked the bathroom door behind him and slumped back against it, staring at the tiled wall of the shower across from him.
Damien had been summoned by his father and wasn't with him at the moment, giving him a bit of time to himself. For that, Tweek was glad. It gave him time to think.
The past three months had actually been really amazing for him; something he had never thought could ever be possible.
He and Damien had been getting along rather well, becoming closer and more and more like a couple with every passing day. Damien had even brought him some black roses the day before as a way to begin an apology he was still having trouble saying about kidnapping him six months ago. (Tweek had told him the flowers said enough, but Damien has still been trying to apologize.) He even dared to think that the Anti-Christ might have fallen in love with him, but of course he'd never say anything; he was still afraid that Damien would decide to kill him.
Tweek drew in a deep breath, finally having caught his breath, and pushed himself off of the door to start the shower.
Before he could move across the small room to turn the water on though, he stopped, having caught his reflection in the mirror from the corner of his eye. He looked at himself in the reflective glass, horrified at what he now saw as himself.
His once golden eyes were a deep blood red, his now shaggy blonde hair curled out at its ends, giving the appearance of multiple horns present on his head, and his skin was a pale snow white. He very nearly looked like a blonde version of Damien himself.
"N-No," Tweek mumbled, "this c-can't be…" He ran his fingertips over his cheek gently, unable to believe that his reflection had changed so much since the day before. "What happened t-to me?" He drew in a sharp breath and shakily opened his mouth, poking at his sharp incisors carefully. He winced when the tip of one of his fangs broke the skin of his finger.
D-Demon…! I'm a demon, j-just like D-Damien said I'd become! Tweek screamed and then quickly hit his knees. He didn't know if this would do any good whatsoever in Hell, but he just wanted to try.
He folded his hands tight in front of his chest. "Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sin–GAH!" He screamed as fire shot up from his throat and through his mouth. A small flame burst from between his lips for a brief moment before dissolving away into smoke. He fell back against the floor gripping his throat tight.
Tweek tried to scream with the pain but couldn't find the means to do so with his throat still burning him. As blood dripped out of the corner of his mouth, Tweek tried to cross himself, but the moment he finished, another flame burst up from his torso in the shape of a cross, hurting him further.
He arched his back and opened his mouth wider to try to scream again, but once again, nothing came out.
He didn't understand… Why wasn't this working? He was still Human! He still felt Human! Why wasn't anything he was taught working? Why was he burning? What was going wrong?
When Damien had entered the room, he was surprised to find that Tweek wasn't in the bed and that he didn't hear the shower running. He stripped off and dropped his shirt onto the bed as he walked towards the bathroom to make sure Tweek was okay.
The meeting with his father had taken only a few minutes, long enough for Satan to ask how things were going and to tell him to let Tweek know he could see his friend again soon enough. Only six more months. (Damien was surprised he was able to keep his father believing Craig had only been Tweek's best friend for so long.)
"Tweek?" Damien knocked lightly on the door and then froze when he heard painful strangled screaming coming from the inside of the bathroom. His eyes widened. "Tweek?" He held out one hand and melted the doorknob. He threw open the door and just stared down at where Tweek was writhing on the floor in pain.
He didn't understand what was going on or why Tweek was on the floor of the bathroom in pain, smoking, but he did the first thing his mind told him to and placed the blonde into the bathtub. He turned the shower onto cold, believing that would relieve at least some of the pain Tweek was experiencing at the moment.
With the pain finally going away, Tweek took deep breath after deep breath and then looked up at Damien with thanks. "Thank you," he said with a scratchy voice, "Damien…"
Damien nodded. "What happened?" He looked down at the cross burned into Tweek's chest.
Tweek turned off the shower and then looked up at the Anti-Christ with some degree of what could've been shame. "I saw what I'm b-becoming and I tried to say a-a prayer…" Damien's eyes widened in shock. "And then I crossed myself."
Damien shook his head. "Idiot!" He yelled at him as he slapped his cheek. "God can't hear you down here! Besides, you have the soul and blood of a Demon. God has abandoned you."
Craig awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He looked at it and sighed deeply. It was work again.
He hit ignore and then rolled over to go back to sleep.
It was rare that Craig went out of the apartment anymore, still feeling depressed and alone with Tweek gone to Hell. He went to work enough so that he didn't lose his job entirely and then went grocery shopping. He hadn't seen his parents in at least three months, with them refusing to visit him because he was being "too depressing" for their liking. His younger sister, Ruby, still visit him every now and again, mostly just to make sure he was still alive and to motivate him to go shopping for things he absolutely needed.
Sighing, Craig opened his eyes again and sat up. He wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep now; he'd just have more nightmares anyway. He slipped out of bed to make his way for the living room, only to collapse down onto the couch.
He looked at his cell phone when it rang again, sighing when he saw it was Kyle…again. He didn't want to talk to Kyle knowing he'd just hear about how he needed to stop moping around in a funk after six months. Why should he have to hear some bullshit like that? Kyle had no idea what it was like to lose the only person he'd ever love! If he lost Stan, he'd understand! Craig was sure of it!
Craig's mouth curled into a smirk at the thought. "If he lost Stan," he muttered. "Perfect," he laughed darkly.
There was still a chance to allow Kyle to understand what he had been feeling the past half-year. After that, he would never belittle the way he felt about Tweek being gone, never to return.
Craig stood up and grabbed his dark blue jacket from the back of the couch, pulling it on as he strolled towards the door. Time for small touch of revenge…