------September 21st, 2008, 9:16 AM, Evan Campbell’s Home---

 

“Judas lives Recite This Vow!
I’ve Become Your New God Now!

 

Bow Down; Sell your soul to me!

I will set you free!

Pacify Your Demons! Bow Down!

Surrender Unto Me, Submit Infectiously!

Sanctify your demons!

Into Abyss!

You don’t exist!

Cannot Resist!

The Judas Kiss!”

 

Evan groggily shuts his alarm off. He climbs out of his bed, noting that he was alone. He staggers into the bathroom, every muscle in his body aching for some reason. As he climbs into the shower and feels the hot water begin to soothe his screaming muscles, he thinks back to what could’ve caused the pain. He finds that he can remember nothing after being doused with a black liquid. He suddenly feels something wet hit him in the face. He opens his eyes and grabs what had hit him. As he pulls it off his face, he focuses his eyes on it. Long, black, and connected to his head. He turns the shower off and steps up to the bathroom mirror, taking in his altered appearance. He suddenly remembers a bit more of his previous night. Waking up in the hospital, playing hero, leaving with Amy, but then nothing. Sighing to himself, he gets dressed and heads upstairs, expecting to find Amy waiting for him. He arrives at the top of the stairs to a deathly silent house.

 

He begins to search the rooms, noting that no lights were on. He looks outside and sees that his grandparents’ SUV was missing. Figuring that they had gone to get breakfast and hadn’t wanted to wake him, Evan heads to the kitchen, his body suddenly craving caffeine. He flips the television in the kitchen on and switches it to the news channel as he prepares a cup of coffee. With his back to the screen, he hears the latest news update on a situation.

 

“Good morning from us at FOX News. We bring solemn news this morning. At six this morning, several people were discovered on the streets. They had been severely mutilated. The coroners have been able to place a time on each death, and have surmised that all six deaths occurred in roughly the same time period, as well as sharing the common level of brutality. It is safe to assume that the killings were committed by the same person, if it was indeed a person that did this, and not a wild animal. In a possibly related story, an SUV was discovered, flipped upside down and crushed to a near pulp. It appears as though it had been flung at a building. Whatever is capable of this surely isn’t from this world.”

 

Evan suddenly drops his coffee cup, not noticing as it falls to the ground, shattering on impact, hot coffee flowing all over the tiled floor. His memory comes crashing back fully. He remembers everything. Losing control to the Dragonskin, ripping all those people apart. He sees an SUV. He gets a good look at the occupants of the SUV. His grandparents. Jay. Amy. He sinks down to his knees as wave after wave of depression slams into him, sending his world into darkness. His vision begins to fade, until he hears another bit of information from the same reporter.

 

“..Thankfully, rescue workers were able to pry the vehicle apart. They found a single survivor. Until the survivor wakes up and can identify themselves, we will have no further information. All we know is that they are currently being treated at Sanctus Ira general hospital. We wish them a speedy recovery. And now for Sports…”

 

A survivor. He had to know who. Evan picks himself off of the floor and slips his shoes on. He rushes out the door, not bothering to lock it behind him, or to even slip on a jacket. He runs down the street, cursing the man who blew up his car yet again, wishing that he had more friends willing to give him a ride. Luckily, the Hospital wasn’t too far away, only a thirty minute jog at best. He feels something in the back of his mind, a voice whispering to him.

 

“Let me out...We will go faster United.”

 

Evan clenches his eyes shut, still running, remembering the events of the previous night again. He crushes those thoughts back, not wanting to deal with them just yet.

 

“Fuck off. No way am I letting you out, whatever you are, not after what you did.”

 

“I merely asked as a show of good faith. You cannot keep me out. My strength is greater than yours. You will thank me in time.”

 

Evan begins to feel the familiar warmth glide up his arms and legs. He clenches his fists together, closing his eyes, using all of his willpower to try and stop the Dragonskin from taking over. After several seconds, while still running even, the warmth recedes, Evan barely managing to assert control over it, but only just. Thanks to the distraction it provided, Evan never noticed the shovel suddenly extending out from a bush. He runs headlong into it, cracking his forehead against the steel, a large gash opening up on his forehead as his momentum is reversed, knocking him hard to the sidewalk as his vision goes black.

 

------September 21st, 2008, 12:02 PM, Unknown Location---

 

Evan blearily opens his eyes, closing his eyes again as soon as the harsh light disturbs his pounding headache. He opens a single eye, trying to see where he is. He finds the strength to open his eyes, fighting past the pain of his headache. He finds himself tied to a wooden chair in an empty room with a single unshaded light bulb hanging in the center. His vision fades in and out from blurry to not. He tests the strength of the ropes binding his wrists and finds them to be quite unbreakable. The voice in the back of his head begins to beg to be let out.

 

“Do not make me take control, Boy. The only reason we are still tied to this chair is because it would be quite…unpleasant for you, if I were to take control of your body while you were unconscious. I strongly advise you to make this easy on yourself, as I do not wish to force my control on you.”

 

Through gritted teeth, using all his mental strength to fend off the voice, Evan replies through gritted teeth.

 

“Fuck off; I can handle this just fine.”

 

“We shall see.”

 

Just as Nightshade stops his attempts to take control, the only room to the door flies open, denting the wall behind it with its force. Standing in the doorway drenched in shadows, his face a deformed and burned mass, is Amy’s father, Richard Reilly. He steps into the room and slowly walks around Evan, saying nary a word. Finally, he stops and stares down at Evan, who is glaring daggers at the man. Richard speaks, his voice filled with barely withheld anger.

 

“Where is my daughter?”

 

“I was wondering the same thing. Before I got whacked in the face with a goddamned shovel of all things, I was on my way to the hospital. In case you haven’t caught the news lately, something killed a bunch of people and caused a car wreck. My family, your daughter, they were in that car. According to the news, there’s only one survivor, and where are they? At the fucking hospital I was running to before you hit me with a goddamned shovel!!”

 

At the height of his rant, Evan feels something burning deep within him. Thinking that Nightshade was attempting to gain control, he clenches his eyes shut, trying to will the feeling away. When he opens his eyes back up, he finds that he is no longer in the room with Richard, nor is he tied to a chair. Instead, he is outside somewhere, with trees as far as the eye can see, a sprawling lake laid out in front of him. Disturbing the peaceful tranquility of the area is a massive green dome off in the distance, growing larger with every passing second. From behind him, a familiar voice startles him out of his reverie.

 

“Creepy lookin, ain't it?”

 

Evan whirls around, his body tense, ready to fend off any attacks.

 

“Easy, easy. I can’t do anything to you here; it is your brain after all.”

 

Another voice, this time from his left, speaks out.

 

“He speaks the truth. He has no power here.”

 

Evan turns to see….himself. Dressed in all black. With pale skin and black eyeliner. Wearing a cape.

 

“And who the hell are you supposed to be?”

 

“I am one of your many emotions. Your subconscious has given me this form.”

 

“Okay, I’m going to assume I’m dreaming or something, so, Ill play along. What emotion do you control?”

 

“Sorrow. I sense that we will become close in the foreseeable future. We have been called forth to assist you in dealing with the Anomaly.”

 

“We?”

 

“Yes, all of your emotions. Say hello to…”

 

Next to Sorrow appears another Evan, his short black hair tipped red, clad in dark red clothing, veins popped out all over his body. He nervously clenches and unclenches his fingers, bouncing from one foot to the other.

 

“Anger.”

 

Next to Anger appears another Evan, dressed in blue this time, his hair gelled up into a Fauxhawk with bits of blue dyed in random spots, a grin on his face, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he looks around the area.

 

“Happiness.”

 

Another Evan appears next to Happiness, this time dressed in Green with gold trim. He looks at Happiness, Anger, and Sorrow, a sneer on his face.

 

“Envy.”

 

Next to Envy materializes an Evan dressed entirely in orange, a downtrodden look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the grass.

 

“Guilt.”

 

An Evan clad in yellow materializes next to Guilt, nervously looking around and biting his fingernails. He flinches when Sorrow mentions his name.

 

“Fear. Finally, we come to the strongest emotion out of all of us…”

 

A brilliant white light suddenly appears in front of the other emotions, nearly blinding them. As it fades away, an Evan, this time entirely dressed in pink, stands in the lights place, his blonde hair even tipped pink. With his arms balled into fists placed against his hips as he looks of into the distance, he is in a very Superman-esque pose.

 

“Love.”

 

As Love stands in the same spot, not moving, not blinking, barely breathing, Anger suddenly breaks out in peals of laughter. He hunches over, hands on his knees, trying not to fall over he’s laughing so hard. Still laughing, he rights himself and steps up to Love, walking around him, looking at him in his all of his Pink glory.

 

“You’re joking, right? No way is this fag stronger than me. I mean, come on, he’s wearin fucking pink!”

 

At his words, Love looks at anger, a steely glint in his blue eyes. In a voice that carries all around them, Love speaks to Anger.

 

“Real men wear Pink. Real men don’t hide behind colors and attitudes. Real men aren’t afraid to be themselves, to show their true feelings. Real men aren’t steroid junkies who muscle everyone else around to get what they want. And yes, I am stronger than you.”

 

As Loves words sink in, Angers eyes flash blood red, and stay that way. He begins to breathe harder and harder as vein after vein pops out on his body. Nearly steaming out of his ears now, Anger lashes out, attempting to strike Love with all of his might, to prove who is the strongest. Love simply grabs Angers fist, stopping his momentum cold. Love rears back with his other fist, yanking Anger in close just as he strikes forwards. His fist connects with Angers jaw just as Love releases Angers fist, sending him flying across the grassy field. Anger slams into the ground, tearing up the grass, sending bits of dirt flying everywhere as he skids to a stop at Sorrows feet.

 

“That’s enough!”

 

Sorrows words ring across the field, putting a stop to any further altercations.

 

“We weren’t brought forth to fight amongst one another, we were brought here to assist our Host with the Anomaly.”

 

“Okay, which Anomaly are we talking about here, that giant green dome thing, or that human oil slick over there?”

 

“The Dome. Nightshade is now as much a part of you as we are. He will assist us as well, unless he wishes to perish in the Domes wake.”

 

“Whoa, uh uh, no perishin for me, I’ll help out any way I can.”

 

“Very well. Enough talk, its time to act.”

 

During the introductions and subsequent altercation, the Green Dome managed to grow even larger, having made its way to the clearing that the eight Evans and one Nightshade were standing in. The nine stand next to each other, separated by six or seven feet, staring at the still growing green dome. They all glance down the row at Evan, who is staring back at them.

 

“So….what do we do now?”

 

“We do whatever you say; you’re the only living person here, after all.”

 

“Bad news then. I’m drawing a blank on ideas.”

 

Love, who is in the center of the group, speaks up.

 

“I’ve got an idea that might work….”

 

Since they are all connected by one mind and body, Love needs not speak the words. He transmits his idea by thought, and each person grins, thinking that it just might work. Moving as one, the nine crouch low, cupping their hands at their sides. Various colors of glowing energy begin to expand and grow inside their hands, each one representing their various colors, with Evans matching Sorrows black energy, and nightshade channeling Angers red energy. All at once, the nine begin to speak.

 

“Ka…”

 

“Mey…”

 

“Ha…”

“Mey…”

 

“HAA!!!”

 

They move together, firing out different colored beams from their now-outstretched hands. Each beam impacts against the Dome at the same time, driving it back bit by bit. With the dome growing smaller and smaller, the nine slowly inch forwards, throwing more power into the beams with each step. After several minutes, the Dome has been shrunk down to the size of a small car, and each person has surrounded it, now evenly spread around the Dome, keeping up their energy beams, thought he dome isn’t shrinking any more. Seeing its non-moving state, Evan shouts to the other versions of himself.

 

“Come on guys, one big burst of power should do it, Give it all you’ve got!”

 

They all rear back with their hands, pushing all of their energy into one last attack. They thrust out towards the dome as the beams of energy explode into giant rushes of energy. They impact against the dome, blowing it down to a minuscule size. They drop the beams, each one panting with the amount of energy they had expended. Evan walks out of formation, stepping to the center where, amidst the scorched ground, he spots a green gem, a bit bigger than a softball. Evan reaches down and grabs them gem, lifting it to eye level. He stares into it as it glints in the sunlight. He closes his fist around it, feeling a rush of energy as it dissolves into his skin. He opens his hand, which is now empty. He looks around at the seven versions of himself, somehow still able to sense the green gem within his body. He closes his eyes and breathes in, a wave of power radiating out from him, the ground rippling under each of them. When he opens his eyes, the seven emotions draw forwards, as if pulled by an invisible string. They speed towards Evan, unable to stop themselves. They slam into him, each one dissolving into him in much the same way the gem did. Once each one is gone, Evan looks over at Nightshade, who had been watching the entire thing, a gob smacked look on what could pass for his face. Evan narrows his eyes, before speaking.

 

“If I leave you here alone and free to roam, will you play nice?”

 

Wordlessly, Nightshade nods, still stunned from the display.

 

“Good.”

 

Evan closes his eyes again, and when he reopens them, he is back in the room with Amy’s father. He appears to not have moved the entire time Evan was in his mind, prompting Evan to assume that no time had passed in the real world. As soon as he comes to this assumption, he realizes he cans till feel the green gem inside him somewhere, can still feel its power.

 

“I’ll give you two choices. You an either let me go, and you will suffer no repercussions, or, I can let myself go, and you can have the shit beat out of you without me even breaking a sweat. Choose wisely.”

 

Amy’s father sneers at Evan, before snatching the shovel off of the wall in which it was leaning against. He raises the shovel into the air, holding it like a baseball bat. He swings for the fences, aiming at Evans head. The steel collides with his skull, snapping the head of the shovel off the wood as Evan topples over, chair and all. Almost as soon as he hits the ground, Evan snaps the ropes binding him to the chair and gets to his feet, staring at Richard Reilly, who stands rooted to his spot, a gob smacked look on his face.

 

“Ow.”

 

With that one sound, Evan reaches out, quick as lightning, and snatches the handle of the shovel away from Richard. He swings it with one hand, watching as it slams against Richards temple, sending the older man toppling to the floor, blood flowing freely from his head, clearly unconscious, but alive. Barely. Evan drops the handle and leaves the room. He finds his way out of the house, catches his bearings, and heads off to the hospital yet again.

 

------September 21st, 2008, 1:32 PM, Sanctus Ira General Hospital---

 

Evan jogs into the main lobby, barely out of breath, thanks to the gem currently residing somewhere inside his body. He steps up to the counter, earning him a look of distaste from the nurse behind it.

"Can I help you?"

“Damn right you can, you can tell me who and where the survivor of last nights car wreck is, and you better make it fast, you have no idea what I went through to get here.”

 

The nurse sighs, before responding.

 

“Sir, that is privileged information allowed to be given out only to family, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t take that tone with me.”

 

Evan quickly grows tired of conversing with the nurse, so, deciding to go with a more…direct approach, he slams his fist down on the counter, rattling everything on it.

 

“Damnit, tell me where they are!”

 

“Now listen here sir—“

 

“No, You listen, you insufferable fucking simpleton! If you don’t tell me where they are right fucking now, I’m going to eviscerate you and use your gastro-intestinal tract as a condom while I fornicate with your skull!”

 

The nurse blinks, shocked at Evans words.

 

“Wha?”

 

“I’m gonna skullfuck you!!!!”

 

Without another word, the nurse picks up a chart off the counter and shakily hands it to Evan. He glances down at it and doesn’t know whether to feel relief or sorrow as he reads the survivors name. Deciding to deal with it later, he tosses the clipboard down and dashes off to the elevators. He steps in front of a group of people about to enter one of the elevators and the look he gives them is all the incentive they need not to follow him. Evan presses the button for Floor 11, the Intensive Care Unit. As the doors slowly slide shut, he nervously clenches and unclenches his fists, willing himself not to break down. Just as the doors begin to open, he forces his way past them. He rushes by doctors and nurses yelling that he isn’t allowed in the back. He reaches room 13 and steps inside, looking at the person lying in the bed, looking as if death had come to call. With feet feeling like lead, Evan steps up to the persons bed and sits down in a chair next to it. He sets his elbows on his knees then rests his head against his hands as the tears begin to flow.