31 Help Seeker
As Damian manoeuvred through the loosely parked cars on the road, he started noticing there were mindless demons up ahead, flying away.
…It's like they're running away from something… Damian glanced at the unconscious African-American man with a low cut and a goatee sitting on the passenger seat and tried to link what happened to Mark to why they were flying away, but couldn't think up anything reasonable.
"Ack…" He coughed up blood once again and used his forearm to shield his mouth.
The mindless, skinny demons were flying erratically and chaotic as they grabbed and threw each other back just to go further.
Damian drove past the people that were lying on the streets and even drove above a few people since the monster truck was high enough to drive over people lying flat.
His goal was to get back to the hideout as fast as possible, so he could treat himself and get some rest.
…
After about 5 minutes, Damian stopped seeing unconscious people on the streets and road.
He had gotten to where they were ambushed and the bodies of the mindless demons were spread on the road.
Chu-gun…
He stopped the vehicle and got down.
…I should do this now I have the chance…
Damian got to the body of a mindless demon with a few holes in its head and lifted it with great difficulty and dragged it to the back of the truck.
He opened the tailgate and threw the body of the demon upward to land on the truck bed floor.
The vehicle was a common pickup truck that had been lifted about 30 inches and had larger tires to look identical to a monster truck.
He repeated it four other times, then slammed the tailgate shut and proceeded to return to the driver's seat.
He wanted to find answers to the lingering question he had since the beginning.
If these creatures are what demons genuinely look like, then why is Arthur's mom acting like a rabid animal, why was Harry a black bandaged mummy?
…
After a while of only listening to the sound of the engine and screams of mindless demons, Damian was only about 2 miles away from Spring Street Subway and only needed about 15 minutes to get there.
He was in too much of a critical condition to return the truck to Frank as of the moment.
Upon getting to a cross-road, Damian's vision slowly got blurry.
He had redone [Demotion] on and on before when he started feeling the pain again.
He tried staying conscious as much as he could, but he couldn't stop his eyes from gradually closing as everything in his vision blurred and his thoughts turned sluggish.
He managed to switch off the ignition right before falling face front on the steering wheel.
Right before his body finally gave in, he called out with a low, weak voice, "Mark… wake up…"
* * *
In the darkness, Mark's mind was slowly drifting.
He had no hands in this darkness, therefore he couldn't feel; no eyes, therefore he couldn't see; no nose, therefore he couldn't smell; no ears, therefore he couldn't hear; no mouth, therefore he couldn't speak; no brain, therefore he couldn't think.
He only had his consciousness. A term others might call 'soul'.
Not even a faint sound or a speck of light could be seen in this darkness.
Kreek...
A crack appeared in this darkness that sent faint whispers from an unknown source.
He remembered how to speak and could now hear.
"What am I?" Mark seemed to ask the crack in the infinite void that sent whispers.
Tiny, faint voices responded, all saying at the same time in hushed and muffled tones, "Human, person, earthling, imperfect, degenerate, useless, stupid, problematic, angry, incompetent, father, brother, friend…"
"Who… am I?"
Before Mark could get an answer, he heard a small voice that had been drowned by the other voices call out, "…wake up…"
"Wake… up?"
As Mark repeated the words and as the crack became larger, he came to a sudden realization. He remembered everything.
Without sparing Mark a split-second thought, the void shattered like glass that's hit by a rock.
…
The moon was large and blood red. Mark saw stone tablets, some bigger than others, neatly spaced with names written on them.
Damian was in front of him, sitting on the grass and resting his back on a stone tablet.
Mark looked closer and saw that there was blood flushing out of Damian's abdomen.
Before he could do anything, Damian raised his left hand to Mark and said in a deep, condescending* voice as the hand grew larger and larger,
"Mark… wake up…"
* * *
"Hurgh…" Mark snapped awake, breathing heavily as sweat trickled down his forehead.
He turned to his side and saw Damian's head on the steering wheel.
He looked at his wristwatch that reads: 01:03 p.m. and approximated the time he left Saint Rose of Lima Church to the time he passed out and realized he had been out for at least 3 hours.
"Oh shit!" Mark cried out. Damian could've been out and in need of medical attention for 2 hours plus now.
He didn't know when Damian fainted, so he just hoped it was at least a few minutes ago.
He jumped out of the truck and ran to the driver's seat.
He dragged Damian down the truck and carried him to the apartment blocks on the right side of the road.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
Mark tried to push the door open, but it only shook slightly.
He backed up and looked up to the apartment windows where he saw a boy and a girl peeping through the brown curtains.
Shuum… They sharply retreated when their eyes met Mark's.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Hey! Open up! There's a dying man out here."
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Damnit!"
Mark went on to the next apartment building and repeated the same actions.
"There's someone here that needs urgent medical attention! Someone help!"
Mark paced about then went back to Damian and checked his pulse and breathing.
"He's breathing but his pulse is low…
"Damnit Damian, why didn't you let Karin treat you?!"
Mark moved on to an apartment building on the other side of the road and knocked as he begged for help once again.
After knocking and begging from block to block for about 5 minutes, he decided it might just be wiser to drive back to the hideout instead of wasting precious time.
"Let me try one last time."
Mark went to the first apartment block he saw those kids and knocked.
"Please…" Mark took out his badge.
"This is the NYPD and here I have an individual that needs immediate medical attention. This man is the Director of NYC Central Health and has offered voluntary service to help those in need in this crisis. Is there any medical personnel that could help him in there?"
"...sigh…"
Mark went ahead to pick Damian up.
Clunk… The lock mechanism of the apartment door resounded as it came undone.
"Bring him in. Quick." A middle-aged woman with light chocolate skin, sleepy eyes, a wide nose with puffy tip, curly brown hair tied to a ponytail behind her head and laugh lines around her mouth, held one side of the double door open.
