1 Chapter 1: The Beginning

The final bell of the day rang, dismissing all of the students from Brookville High School. The teenagers all rushed out of the classes, hurrying to start their weekend plans with their friends. Jarod, who was so engrossed in his book that he couldn't hear anything, was startled when a ruler hit his desk, creating a loud sound that caused Jarod to jump into the air as his book fell to the ground. The one wielding the ruler had a large grin spread across their face like warm butter on toast.

It was none other than his best friend, Ryan Baldwin.

Picking up his book with an irritated sigh, Jarod glared freely at his friend who only stood there laughing at his expense. Jarod had light-grey hair that was long enough to reach his eyes. Many students accused him of dyeing his hair, which he adamantly denied their claims, saying that it was his hair color from birth.

Jarod also had bright grey eyes that were almost unnatural like his hair with pale skin that could rival a blank piece of printing paper. These differences made him unpopular during his high school career of a year and a half, the sophomore year just hitting the halfway mark a couple of weeks ago.

"What the hell was that for?!" He whisper-shouted at Ryan, not wanting to disturb the teacher who was snoring at their desk.

"You're too into that book!" Ryan exclaimed in a playful tone. "You didn't even hear the bell ring!"

Ryan had light red hair with freckles dotting his face, making him look as if a child had used a faded marker to dot a white piece of paper. Unlike Jarod, who was skinny, Ryan had an athletic build with chiseled muscles and bright blue eyes that shined even on the darkest of days.

Ryan was obviously more popular than his friend, being on the football team as one of the wide receivers that the Brookeville Bees had. Jarod was often bullied and ridiculed by his fellow classmates for his slight obsession with books, comic books, and even manga and anime, making him one of, if not the most unpopular teenager of all of Brookeville, Virginia.

"I see," Jarod noted as he stuffed the large book into his broken and dirtied backpack. "Oh well, less time at home I guess." He said with a small smile, which in turn made Ryan frown. Dismissing the thought for a later time, Ryan wrapped his large arm around Jarod's shoulders as they walked out of the classroom.

"Stuff like this is why you get bullied, ya know?" Ryan teased slightly. "No matter how much I try you just cannot put the book down and grab a ball can you?" With a small smile, Jarod shook his head.

"Books bring a new world rather than the same one with a ball, besides," Jarod paused as he saw his crush, Jurnee Almond, talking to her friends by some lockers. He shook his head before continuing his train of thought. "I don't really care if I get bullied. If some ass wants to take time out of their day to mess with me then I should feel honored."

Ryan plucked Jarod in the ear. "That's not really a healthy mindset to put yourself in," He then chuckled. "And you care when you have to visit the nurse every week."

"Whatever, she gives me free cough drops, which are practically candy so it's okay," Ryan smirked.

"It's the only girl you actively talk to!" He received a punch to the ribs but continued on. "What about that girl? Don't you like her?" He intentionally said loudly. Jarod's usually pale face turned into a tint of pink as he glanced at Jurnee, who had luckily not heard Ryan's loud question.

"Are you stupid?" Jarod hissed as he removed his friend's arm from his shoulder and shoved him slightly, only earning a bark of laughter from his popular friend. As they walked outside the school, where cars and buses were bustling alike, Ryan turned to Jarod with a serious expression drawn across his face.

"Are you gonna be alright walking home alone?" Ryan asked, concern evident in his voice. "Those guys might come back. . ." Last week, when Ryan had to go to football practice, just like today, Jarod had gotten jumped by a small gang of people, but he refused to tell Ryan who, not wanting to endanger his friend's football career by getting him in trouble.

Jarod snorted. "Pfft, if they do, I'll be prepped. I got my guns!" Jarod patted down his nonexistent bicep, hitting nothing but skin and bone.

Ryan laughed at Jarod. "You're gonna fight back with those things?" Jarod nodded as another burst of laughter erupted from the red head's lungs. "Dude you're gonna die!" Jarod laughed awkwardly for a moment before getting serious.

"Are you done yet?" He asked in an annoyed tone. Ryan nodded. With that, Jarod reeled back his right arm and delivered the strongest punch he could muster right into Ryan's abdomen, but the latter didn't even flinch.

"See what I mean?" Ryan said. Jarod reluctantly accepted defeat, understanding just how weak he was compared to his best friend. Ryan clapped his hand on Jarod's shoulder hard. "It's alright! You just have to wait a little bit longer! You turn sixteen soon right? Maybe the new number will come with some new strength and get rid of all that skinny?"

Rolling his eyes, Jarod shook his head. "I'm normal for my size. It's not my fault you look like the giant from the green beans can." Ryan chuckled at the insult. The two fit each other pretty well if one were to ask either boy. Jarod had brainpower; able to score easy A's on hard test without even studying while Ryan had muscle power, able to bench two-hundred and fifty pounds like it was stuffed animals.

They filled what the other lacked.

"Welp, I'll see ya Monday," Ryan got out as he stretched. "I gotta go but you get home okay, alright?" Jarod gave Ryan a mock salute, causing the former boy to snicker at Jarod's antics.

"Will do, Sergeant Baldwin!" With that, Ryan left the grey-haired teen who then took the path home.

His house was about two miles away from the school, but he insisted on walking to build up his endurance. He would always reach the school right before the bus did so he thought it was worthwhile. Besides, no bus equaled no bullies he couldn't escape from.

Or so he thought.

As he was walking down the street, he noticed a faint smell of smoke, cigarette smoke to be exact, a smell he was very well accustomed to. He looked around but saw nothing. He continued walking up the hill.

When he reached the top of the hill, he saw five men, all in nice black mustangs parked in the middle of the street and on the sidewalk. One of the men, came forward, a decent sized knife in his left hand. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a leather jacket, making him look like a classic biker in the old movies Jarod would watch.

Jarod immediately put his hands up in surrender. "Look, I don't have any money on me, but I'm pretty sure there are some rich kids down the street." He said, motioning backward. The man snorted.

"Pfft, a real demon. Not afraid or even ashamed to sell out his friends." Jarod cocked his head to the side.

"I legit only have one friend. Besides, those rich snobs make fun of me." He gestured to his clothes. "Have you noticed the way I dressed?" The four men behind the big guy started chuckling. The big guy smirked.

"Obvious disguise. You really are a clever one." Now Jarod was even more confused.

"I honestly have no idea on-" He was cut off as the man threw the knife at him. He was slow, so he didn't have any time dodge it. For a single moment, Jarod thought the knife would plunge straight into his chest and kill him.

Right when it was about to pierce his skin, a purple blur flashed in front of him and caught the knife mid-air, earning growls and groans of annoyance from the five men. "I told you!" The leader of the group shouted, pointing at Jarod. "I told you he was the demon!"

The person was decked out in purple. Purple shoes, purple pants, and a purple cloak with a purple hood hiding the person's features. The stranger turned their head towards him. He only saw yellow eyes glowing, staring into his own grey ones.

"Run Your Highness." A female voice said. Jarod didn't know about the 'Your Highness' part, but he didn't need to be told twice to hall ass. He bolted into the woods, moving at speeds he never knew he was capable of. He quickly chalked it up to adrenaline.

He knew a different route to his house through the woods, having taken it several times to escape bullies that chased him from school. Running past trees and through bushes, Jarod kept glancing back, expecting the thugs to continue in their pursuit, but each time he looked back there was nothing but the emptiness that the forest contained.

Arriving at the clearing and see his house, Jarod's heart almost gave out due to the relief he suddenly felt when he walked through the door, only for that relief to disappear within a snap of a finger.

He was immediately hit with the aroma of marijuana smoke, with a mix of crack cocaine, he was also bombarded with a heavy scent of booze, making his nose wrinkle up in disgust.

He walked past the couch where his mother was currently stoned on, probably not even being able to move. He rolled his eyes and eyed his stepfather sitting next to her. The man next to his mother, John, was an alcoholic. John had a beer in one hand and the T.V. remote in another, switching channels over and over again. He saw Jarod from the corner of his eye.

"What are you looking at brat?!" He slurred. Jarod broke out of his trance-like state and quickly walked to his room, flinching when a bottle crashed right behind him. He rushed forward and closed the door behind him, locking it, and then putting his desk chair in front of it.

A large banging sound was heard due to John pounding on the door, threatening to kill Jarod and beat him. Jarod ignored him. It happens once or twice a week, for the past two years. The first time Jarod was beaten John had taken a broken glass bottle and cut open his arm in a drunken rage. His mother, who still had some of her humanity left at the time, had driven him to the hospital and told him to say he fell from some trees.

That was two years ago and now his mother's humanity had vanished.

Now, his mother would sometimes join in on his beatings. But he was now skilled in evading them. He laid on his back and plugged his headphones into his phone, and turned on some random song from his playlist and closed his eyes, forgetting about the whole day, even the attack.

Unaware of two pairs of eyes looking at him from his window.