Teratos High: Demon Hunters

A/N: Thanks for the glowing reviews guys! ^_^ Just a couple of points before I start the story this time... If memory serves ZB actually intended Leo to be a young version of Leon from GX, but miss-remembered the name or something so he got mutated into the Leo we all know and love. (Probably just as well actually... won't kill us to have one or two originals floating about *grin*)

Also, I really wouldn't recommend dashing over to ff.net for the other chapters... I'm not just doing spelling edits in these revisions. ZB and I are doing actual content changes to shore up plot holes and generally polish the story. And ZB is gradually replacing her early chapters with the new versions as I complete them (I do the revising while she works on the next chapter and she puts her stamp of approval on it before I post it ^_^), so if you read ahead you'll just have to come back and reread to see what was changed. Sorry 'bout that...

And now... On with the story! :)

~~~~

As expected, a large band of paparazzi ambushed them the second they stepped out the door. Despite his lack of surprise over the media frenzy it was an unnerving situation for Yami since he was unaccustomed to the amount of attention he received at all angles. In his experience attention usually came from at most half a dozen people and that was only when the people involved were 'official'. So to have hoards of reporters screaming themselves hoarse on all sides was a bit intimidating to say the least.

The screams came from all sides the instant his boot touched the orphanage’s driveway. Large microphones were shoved in his face, seemingly directly connected to a person shouting questions at him. The reporters demanded to know his age, birthday, zodiac sign, and sexual orientation, dating status, blood type, weight, and height.

Did they want to know how well he could curse? Because his temper had begun inching dangerously close to a boiling point; Malik, who had apparently been hiding outside all this time just to see Yami's reaction to the 'rabid animals', made certain to warn everyone within twenty five feet of Yami not to ‘Irritate the Barbiturate.’

Yeah. His specialty was bombs, not names. And in this case, Yami didn’t know if he should be insulted that he was being called a sedative... or complimented.

Awkwardly, Yami did his best to dodge the questions, leaving the Q&A to his foster mother. She answered the questions with a rehearsed ease, almost as though she knew Yami her entire life. The orphan made it to the car, glanced out the window, and snorted derisively. Marilyn was acting as though she had wiped his stinky little ass when he was potty trained, and if Yami hadn’t known better he would have been convinced of the fact himself. She was good. He'd give her that at least.

Cobalt and Yami got the car started while Marilyn dealt with the media. She kindly answered every question and thanked the reporters for taking such a high interest in Yami. She earnestly thanked them for each compliment many of which congratulated her fine eye on choosing such a handsome, upstanding boy.

As if they knew Yami personally. He snorted, if only they knew...

The teenager shut himself in the car and removed his face from the window; it was a vain attempt to shut away the media. To the reporters this just classified Yami as ‘innocent, young, and shy’. If Ms. Teana had heard what the reporters were saying, she would have laughed until she peed all over her adult diapers.

Nothing could've been further from the truth.

Yami wasn't shy. He was introverted. A close observer would claim he was antisocial. (A description Yami would readily agree to) An expert could've told the reporters that being an introvert meant that Yami was easily angered and prone to violence. Shy? Not in this lifetime. The media was barking up the totally wrong tree. But then, that was probably a normal state of being for the media...

The shit’s going to hit the fan when I finally snap... Yami thought wryly. When the paparazzi caught a whiff of his real personality, they would probably go to town on it. He snorted in amusement this time. That would be funny.

“I hope you enjoy your new life!” One of the over-exuberant reporters yelled through Cobalt’s open window. It wasn’t likely, but Yami attempted to smile back anyway.

By the time Marilyn had returned to the car Yami was in such a foul mood his foster mother thought he looked like he was about to vomit. For his part Yami stubbornly ignored his new parents and perched himself at the edge of the leather seat. He'd originally planned to pretend they didn't exist, but at some point he must have drifted off to sleep, because the next time his eyes focused, he found himself in an unfamiliar neighborhood with plastic flamingos perched on immaculately trimmed lawns.

Still in a stupor, Yami pressed his nose against the glass and watched large manors and mansions roll past his eyes.

"Where the fuck are we?" Yami asked groggily, "Beverly Hills?"

"Of course not." Marilyn chided, "That's just silly Yami... We're in Georgia!"

'Really. We are? You mean the car hasn't grown wings and flown to California? You're shitting me!' Yami thought sarcastically to himself.

"Well at least we're someplace that makes sense." Yami grumbled lazily, and climbed out of the Sobeks Mercedes. Cobalt parked the car in a winding driveway that led up to a large white house. 'House' was a severe understatement.

A 'Very Large House' would still do the description injustice. Yami felt his jaw drop to his knees, wondering briefly if the closest dentist knew how to re-hinge mouths.

The Sobeks domicile was four stories high with large fire-proof paneled sides and six floor to ceiling windows which lined the face of the house. Simply put the 'house' was a mansion. Victorian styled, with pillars that were grounded before a huge oak door, intricate decals wove through the window shutters, the panels on the door, and the ornate spirals which were sprawled on the pillars.

"Like it?" Cobalt asked, turning to Yami and smiling at his stunned expression, "This is where you'll be living from now on."

Yami snorted a little angry with himself for being so surprised. Honestly, what had he expected? The Sobeks could probably buy half the freaking country if they wanted. Of course they would have a place like this. Besides, even if it wasn't beneath them to mingle with the lower classes, something Yami severely doubted, it wouldn't do for their new 'son' to be seen in anything less than the absolute best. Not good for the public image and all. He was aware that if someone were to see him standing next to his new home from a bird's eye view, all they would see is a tiny smudge of black against the broad expanse of white walls and rolling acres of lush grass, but that was hardly the point. The point was that he was here. And thanks to that media feeding frenzy earlier, he would not only be on the evening news across the country for the next couple weeks at least, he would no doubt be expected to fall into this kind of rich life weeping with gratitude. Yami scowled blackly. No way. No way in hell.

Of all things Yami thought he was - and he knew he was a lot of things, spoiled could never be one of them.

Marilyn looked at Yami's disgruntled expression and rested a hand on his shoulder, "No one will assume anything about you by the place you live." She said kindly, "You can still keep your identity." Yami snapped crimson eyes towards her face and flinched away from her touch as though burned.

"Save your breath on someone who wants to be patronized." He snarled and glared daggers at both foster parents. Cobalt exchanged a knowing look with Marilyn and got out of the car. He walked over to the trunk and popped it open. He picked up Yami's book bag, weighing it with one hand, "Is this it?" He asked, surprised.

"Of course." Yami growled, "Did you think we'd have anything like luxury in an orphanage?" He slammed the door shut and walked up the neat driveway. Everything seemed so perfect in the quiet little suburb. Yami felt distinctly out of place, and was struck with an unsettled feeling in his stomach. Just how far away was he from Leo and the others?

"Where are we?" He repeated his question from earlier. Marilyn looked at him calmly before pulling a set of keys from her purse, "We're in New McEver." She said evenly, "Starting Monday, you'll be attending Teratos High school." She looked at Cobalt lovingly, "That's the school your father and I met."

Yami resisted the urge to gag by a safe margin. How he resisted the urge to correct them on their delusion about Cobalt being his father he had no idea.

"Don't tell me it's also the school you two first started dating." Both Sobeks looked at each other and shrugged.

"Fine, we won't tell you then."

Yami groaned and slapped his hands to his ears. Everyone just lived to contradict, annoy, pester, and in some rare cases, molest Yami. Unfortunately, the red eyed teen was always on the receiving end of jokes and all the previously mentioned. And he only had a day to deal with all the crap being thrown at him today, and get ready and settled for school.

Joy.

He approached the door and stood side by side next to Marilyn. She was fairly tall for a woman and Yami was mildly disgruntled to note he barely reached her height. He guessed she only looked tall beside him because he was relatively short, but judging by the four inch heels Marilyn wore, he supposed it could be worse.

For one thing, he could have those four inch heels shoved up, or into, places they shouldn't be if he was fool enough to mention it... and while Yami was crazy; he wasn't stupid. Instead he resisted the increasingly attractive urge to run away from this lady, he had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't get very far if he did, those things could probably be classified as lethal weapons... so Yami just tried to move a few discrete feet to the left; a safe distance from her. He was not in the mood to get his face, or anything else, smashed in by 'the female powers that be'.

Marilyn saw his aversion and let out a dignified laugh, "You'll get used to my heel fetish."

"No you won't." Cobalt muttered, "Don't lie to the poor boy." Marilyn shot him a half hearted glare and opened the door. She leaned over to Cobalt's ear and whispered something Yami couldn't make out in his ear.

He abruptly lost all color in his face.

Yami wasn't sure what had just happened, but apparently she'd just whispered something that made him lose his surly attitude towards her shoes. Completely. Yami couldn't stop a small snicker from escaping. For some reason the knowledge that Marilyn was an equal opportunity blackmailer made him feel a little better.

Deciding that discretion might be the better part of valor right about now Yami walked into the house grateful to be escaping the summer heat. Generally speaking he preferred not to bake like a cookie if he could help it. Although he was certain he'd taste absolutely delicious if he was. He mentally snickered at the analogy. Ryou was right. Humility was not a virtue he possessed.

"Your room is on the second floor." Cobalt pointed at the staircase interrupting Yami's thoughts. The teenager looked at his foster father blackly, wondering if the man knew beforehand about Yami's deep seated hatred for all things stair related. He would not have been surprised if he did know about it considering Marilyn's vast knowledge of the orphan, which had rivaled the information Yami knew about himself.

It was a sad thing when a woman you had barely met, knew you better than yourself. Yami mentally cursed any higher force in existence (and Cobalt for good measure) for setting him into battle with his arch-nemesis once again. Those hated stairs... He gritted his teeth, and jerked his head at Cobalt, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Bastard.

Stalling for time Yami decided to ignore Cobalt for a moment and look around. He wasn't quite sure he believed his eyes.

The whole house was sparkling, and Yami was sure that at night it glowed in the dark. Great. He lived in a giant nightlight.

The first fluorescent house. Energy saving, cost efficient, and environmentally-safe.

A Hybrid house.

And like all hybrid items, Yami bet it cost an arm and a leg just to look at it. He just hoped it wouldn't cost him much more than that to live in it. Knowing his luck he'd be fine if he parted with what was left of his soul... freaking demons.

Shoving his bitter thoughts aside, the orphan eyed at the contemporary furniture. Stainless steel with modern technical devices that packed in every corner, giving Yami's new home a hollowed out feeling. He frowned, feeling slightly disappointed. After seeing such a Victorian exterior, he'd hoped the interior would match the expectations of a southern home style. It figured.

"You two settled into your new house quickly." Yami commented bitterly, gazing around the mansion with a practiced eye. The red eyed teenager didn't like all the gaudy things the Sobeks bought with their expansive resources. Did they think they were going to win him over by buying him top of the line items? Hmph. Not likely.

He rubbed his face wearily, thinking it was typical. Most parents now-a-days just threw money at their problems, hoping they would go away. But Yami wasn't used to riches and he knew he didn't need, or particularly want, them. What he really wanted was a homey home. A place with warm colors, furniture that saw plenty of use, and a welcoming atmosphere. A place where he knew immediately he was wanted and safe. This house was devoid of any of that. It was as cold and remote as the people who owned it, and knew as well as Yami did that he was only a temporary resident. He'd be returning to the orphanage soon enough.

"Do you like it?" Marilyn asked softly. An underlying tone Yami couldn't recognize resonated in her voice. Yami was under the impression she was trying to impress him. It made him angry, and with more venom than even he intended, turned towards her.

"Why would I?" He demanded flatly. Yami knew he'd shot down Marilyn's, now obvious, hopes, but she had to realize she couldn't win the stubborn orphan over by stuffing a bunch of fancy electronic items in her house and expecting him to be happy with it. If Yami was considered a problem, he would not be resolved if she threw money at him. A shadow crossed over the woman's face, and for a moment Yami felt like a complete asshole.

The feeling didn't last long.

"Look." He glanced at his two foster parents, "I appreciate that for some reason you're actually trying to make me feel comfortable. Though I can't figure out why you'd care. But just..."

He trailed off unable to voice just what he wanted, or expected, from the Sobeks. He barely knew them, and was still royally pissed about their threat to shut down the orphanage, but somehow, despite his best efforts, they had gradually begun to grow on him a little. Like some weird, demented sort of bacteria... mold... fungus... thing. There was just some sort of feeling deep in his gut that told him to give them a chance. Yami didn't like it, and he sure as hell didn't trust it, or the Sobeks, so he firmed his resolve and turned to his surest defense. Anger and resentment.

"Stop trying." He snapped finally, glaring at the couple. He snatched his bag from Cobalt's tan hand, and stomped up the stairs. Once in, what he assumed was his room he threw his bag in a corner and sat on the bed. It was fully equipped with a downy comforter, feather cushions, and a pillow-top mattress. Hell, in the orphanage, you were lucky to even have a bed frame. He promptly ripped the blanket off the bed and threw it to the floor out of frustrated spite. It landed in the corner across from his back pack, a soft puddle of snow.

Yami felt like laughing at the first class treatment.

In fact, he did laugh.

Yami broke out in convulsive laughs, unable to deal with what was being presented to him. Everything he ever wanted and ever dreamed of having... It was all within reach... And all he had to do to grasp it was take the hands of the people who'd so casually threatened every child in the orphanage with a fate worse than death, and now called him 'son'. It had to be a dream. A sick, twisted, ironic dream.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed until tears came from his red eyes and spilled down his tan cheeks in place of the tears he'd long ago learned not to shed under any circumstance. He stayed in his room all day until the shadows began to spill like ink across his carpet. He simply did nothing but laugh. Yami curled into a ball, fully clothed, with his tattered converse hanging off his feet like the sagging tongue of a dog. He laughed until his lungs ached. He laughed until his throat felt raw. He kept laughing, and nothing could stop him.

Marilyn and Cobalt didn't check on the teenager. They knew full well that Yami didn't trust, or particularly like, them for reasons even they could admit were justifiable. So they left him to his needed space. It was probably just as well, or they might have been obliged to call an ambulance... or better yet, a psychiatrist.

For his part Yami just couldn't stop laughing. But in his mind, he remained silent. Inside, he was just lying on his bed staring at the immaculately scrubbed ceiling and wondering if the Sobeks had ties with the FCC.

He kept up his hysteria, until exhaustion overtook him.

And wondrously, Yami fell asleep.

~~~~

Flashes of a dream flickered through Yami's minds eye. Aware that he was drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, Yami looked around.

A woman, beautiful beyond any mortal Yami ever laid eyes on, stood in front of him, her back to him. Her long, violet rope of hair was plaited down to her thighs. She looked over a smooth shoulder and caught sight of Yami standing behind her with glassy purple eyes. She turned fully into Yami's view and the orphan reeled back in disgust.

Blood bubbled and spilled from her full lips. Droplets of her life's liquid trailed like gothic tears from her empty amethyst orbs. She smiled at Yami and held out an open palm, beckoning him to take her hand.

An unwilling Yami complied, horrified to find that he couldn't control his body. He couldn't speak, and even if he could find the words to describe this sight, he doubted he would ever be able to utter them aloud.

The woman smiled at Yami, and placed a clear dagger in his hand.

~~~~

Yami woke with a start, beads of sweat made his black shirt from the previous day stick to his back. His throat hurt and his body gave a painful throb. He vaguely wondered if a Mickey was slipped in his drink yesterday. Then decided the Mickey would've probably been more merciful.

Frustrated, Yami kicked his covers off and watched them tumble onto the fluffy white carpet. Yami squinted annoyed that the fluorescent walls reflected the morning sun from outside. Honestly, did these people have a problem with sleeping in actual darkness?

He decided on the spot that the first thing to leave this room would be the tanning bed experience upon waking up. It was just too freaking white in here. Some nice dark red paint and related colors would probably be a good place to start...

Yami was sure he could find used paint in an old alleyway. He wasn't too excited about painting the room himself though. There were a few things he was good at. Painting wasn't one of them. He wondered if he could get someone to paint his room for him but Yami didn't know anyone in New McEver, and he didn't want to ask the Sobeks either. Oh well. He'd think of something.

Yami trudged down the stairs, gripping the handrail as if it were a lifeline. He wasn't about to tempt fate by walking down without at least gripping the railing. He'd just had one too many accidents on stairs for him not to be very careful.

Once on solid ground, Yami glanced around to see if Marilyn or Cobalt were out. Taking a quick peek out the window he confirmed that they were doing whatever they usually did on Sunday mornings. He felt somewhat relieved that his presence hadn't hindered their daily lives, and was thrilled they were leaving him alone for now. That the relief was tinged with bitterness and a vague disappointment was something he chose not to think about.

'Not that we'd have anything to do besides stare at each other stupidly.' He thought absently as he made himself a hasty breakfast.

He decided that it would do him good to take a page out of the Sobeks book and venture into the world as well. He grabbed his shoes and jammed his feet into the protesting footwear, making a beeline for the door.

It took him fifteen minutes to make it to the bottom of his god-forsaken driveway, and by the time he reached the street, Yami had racked up a few thousand blasphemy points by swearing to God, Mary mother of Christ, and the twelve apostles. All at the same time.

He was going to hell. But that was no surprise to Yami.

Yami paused at the front of his house and made a mental note of all streets and landmarks around. It wouldn't do him any good if he got lost; considering that he had no idea where he was going, but it might be useful later. He smiled for the first time since leaving the orphanage, soaking in the golden sunlight and letting it lull him into a relaxed state where he could forget about his troubles for a while.

Many people thought he was a nocturnal creature, but they would be wrong. Yami loved the sunlight and the bustle that everyday life brought. Night he found to be excessively boring with very few places open that didn't mind under-aged teenagers running around like they were the freaking anti-Christ. Sunlight on the other hand lit up life in all it's screwed up, messy imperfection. Living at the orphanage, and with the freaks who'd adopted him, had robbed him of all trust of perfection long ago. The better something looked on the surface the darker it was underneath. Always.

That was one reason he didn't really trust the Sobeks. They looked too perfect. It made him jumpy. He kept expecting something awful to happen at any moment. He honestly would've felt better about the whole thing if they'd shown up in slightly wrinkled clothes, and had a less polished house.

It would've shown that they acknowledged their faults and didn't hide them. That they didn't mind that Yami had more than a few of his own. He knew it was completely contradictory, but he was just like that. Most orphans were after about the age of twelve.

As it was he was stuck with a couple he one part kind of liked, three parts hated, trusted not at all, and had no idea what to do with. With a slight shake of his head he decided that for now he'd keep up his defenses and wait and see. There wasn't much else he could do really. With that thought in mind he returned to his enjoyment of the sunlight and the peace walking aimlessly brought.

~~~~

Later that afternoon Yami walked towards New McEver Road, confident that he wouldn't get lost. It had taken him a while, but he'd eventually wandered out of the neighborhood in time to discover a Sonic for a late lunch. After a couple hours of munching fries, sipping coke, and people watching (during which one of the waitresses had flirted with him outrageously) he'd decided he'd had enough of humanity for one day and started heading back.

He had been surprised to find that the Sobeks did not seem to think of themselves as better than everyone else. Apparently they didn't mind living amongst the middle class, didn't belong to the local country club, and generally broke the stereotypical mold one pictures with a CEO. In fact, Yami had found out that the only neighborhood with mansions in it was the one the Sobeks were currently living in. The other neighborhoods were fairly average.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

"Yeah, those Sobeks are really something." A man, with a particularly thick southern accent, at one of the corner stores told him happily when he stepped in for a pack of gum. He then proceeded to try the orphan's negligible patience with a detailed history of the house in between his effusive praises of the couple living there.

The history, at least, had been tolerably interesting...

It seemed the house Marilyn and Cobalt lived in was one of the few which had managed to survive Sherman's march to the sea. The mansions around the original were simply replicas of designs that had been salvaged from old documents unearthed in the restored Sobek Manor.

Yami accepted the information readily enough, but took no heed to the cashier's opinions. They meant nothing to an orphan who liked to keep his options open, "Thanks." He said, slapping a dollar on the dirty counter before leaving.

It was around six o'clock by now and the sun was setting. Rush hour was almost over, but the streets were still congested.

Unfortunately, that meant Yami was unable to go back home the same way he had come. Grumbling, Yami turned around to see if he could find a way to walk back to the Sobek's house from behind the corner store when something peculiar caught his attention.

Three people were clustered together. All were boys and two were huge woolly mammoth-like creatures. The large teens hovered over the smaller one, sneering and jeering at him.

From Yami's distance he couldn't make out their faces, but their actions were clear enough to speak volumes. One of the beasts reached out and pulled the small teenager flush against his body running a hand suggestively down the boy's side. And beast number two slid his hand to the boy's rump. A violated screech escaped the victim's lips, and he redoubled his previous efforts to get away; managing to not only smack beast number one across the face hard enough to leave a print, but maneuver himself well enough to knee the bastard in the groin. Hard.

Yami was impressed despite himself as he watched as the first teenager sink to his knees and clutch at his pills in agony. He wouldn't have guessed the kid had it in him. He smirked. Just goes to show how you should never underestimate people. Especially desperate people. Unfortunately, desperate or not, the other teen was clearly no match for the two holding him. A fact that was proved when beast number two growled and grabbed the small teen by the scruff of his collar. He snapped something to the teenager and gave him a rough shake.

That was all it took for Yami to see red. He wasn't in the habit of rescuing people particularly - most days he was too busy worrying about his own hide to care about some stranger - , but it seemed not even he was so low as to ignore something like this happening right in front of him. He purposefully stomped forward until he was parallel to Beast number two's back.

From his angle, he could make out only a little of the small teen's face. A tuft of violet-black hair and an amethyst eye, but that was all he needed. That one pretty eye was wide and terrified. Nothing else mattered. He didn't see the victim gaping at him in complete shock. He was too busy being shocked at himself.

Here he was pulling out his wallet, disconnecting the chain, and getting ready to not only fight for someone other than Leo, Ryou, or Malik, but a complete stranger. This went against everything he had taught himself since he was a kid, and he couldn't help wondering when the Twilight Zone music would start playing because he obviously wasn't operating in normal reality.

'Oh well.' He thought grimly, 'It couldn't hurt me if I was nice to a person once in a while...'

How wrong he was.

Wrapping the chain tightly around his knuckles, he clasped it securely to avoid breaking his hand - that was the last thing he needed. Yami shoved his wallet deeper in his pocket. If he got mugged because of this punk ass brat... he let the threat trail into the air. Nevertheless, the orphan took a deep breath and planted his feet shoulder width apart. With his unchained left hand, Yami spun the Beast towards him.

Up close, Yami was much more impressed by the Beast's girth. Far away he had appeared huge, but up close the Beast was massive however it was the beast's face that made his blood run cold and quick mind stall

"Fuck..." Yami whispered, astonished.

Not only was it ugly, but it seemed oddly misshapen. His skin appeared to have consisted of a leathery and weathered melting sludge. It seemed to move, falling off his face so the white cartilage could be seen underneath beneath the flesh. Jagged yellow teeth dripped thick, foamy white saliva. Putrid breath blasted against Yami's face, and horrified, the orphan found he couldn't move. Fear had paralyzed him.

The Beast's nose was large, swollen like bug, misshapen, and flat. It was as though he had been punched a few too many times in the face. Black, lightless pits were where his eyes ought to have been. But although he was lacking the eyes to see, he was clearly not sightless.

In one massive paw he held up a struggling figure. Yami didn't have time to look at the victim up close. He was currently too busy fighting against every nerve in his body that begged for his escape.

This guy really WAS a Beast!

A snarl ripped from the Beast's lipless mouth, revealing long rows of sharpened fangs.

"Run!" The victim managed to gasp, "Go back home! The night is setting! It will get stronger!"

And it was true; all signs of life had begun to recede. The sounds of cars were long gone, rush hour having finally stopped for the day. Nighttime. The time of demons. The time of hunting...

Suddenly Yami stilled, and a sort of drugged calm crashed down upon him like a wave. It came from seemingly no where. A pulse pounded through him.

' -Are they gone?- A woman whispered softly. She clutched a sleeping baby to her chest.'

Yami gasped for breath. What was going on?

'A hunted family crouched in leaves; there was no escape for them...'

His vision swam.

' -But maybe...- The man thought, -Maybe my son might survive...-'

Another pulse hit him. It sounded like a heartbeat...

' -Go!- A kiss goodbye and nothing more...'

Yami staggered. Inexplicable grief welled up inside him.

'The monster raised a massive paw, severing the man into two bloody pieces... and there he died, alone and in unspeakable agony...'

The grief turned into rage.

' -His name will be Yami, and may he swallow the demons in his shadows...-'

Yami's fist collided with the Beast's jaw as his rage exploded overpowering his common sense. His chain dug deep into the Beast's jaw, instantly tearing the skin off Yami's knuckles in dark bloody gashes. Red eyes widened in momentary shock. He hadn't meant to punch the Beast. Something in him had just snapped. But strangely enough Yami couldn't feel fear.

Only a smug satisfaction of causing the thing pain.

Yami's punch had the desired effect and the beast let go of his victim. He turned towards Yami, filled with malicious intent. Silently, almost clinically, Yami gauged the monster's reaction time with what could only be called a practiced eye and eerie calm even though his expression held nothing but contempt and disgust. Something within him told him that the creature was tough, but not above his skill. A worthy first kill...

Where that thought came from Yami had no idea, but he shoved it aside in favor of more important things. Like winning.

"Aw, did the baby get a boo boo?" He taunted with a smirk.

With surprising speed, the other Beast swung at Yami with a massive paw. The orphan ducked around the arm and sunk his fists into his opponent's stomach before dancing out of reach. He knew instantly that he'd injured his hands more. Punching either of these beasts was a lot like trying to deflate a tractor tire with a needle. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, deadening the pain. He'd be alright for a little while.

Winded, the Beast knelt beside his fallen comrade, "What? You're done already?" Yami jeered. He stepped up and grinned maliciously, "I suppose you're not going to try hitting on little boys anymore, right?" He asked.

Where did all this confidence come from?

Yami didn't know. Staring at the ugly teenager, the orphan didn't feel like himself. He slapped himself on the face and abruptly came to his senses. Seeing the bruised face of the teenager, Yami wasn't sure if he had imagined the monstrosity or not. The battered molesters were obviously nothing more than ugly teenagers.

Panic slammed into his gut with the force of a baseball bat. Blindly he backed away from the wheezing and bloody boys all traces of calm shattered. His thoughts spun out of control. What had just happened to him? Was it really possible for him to have imagined such a monster?

Memories of his dream floated back to his mind. Yes, he told himself. It was possible for his mind to conjure up a beast that terrifying. It had done so before. There hadn't been any monsters there. It had just been the changing light melting the teenager's faces into something inhuman. Sure. And the fury he'd felt was because they'd been about to rape someone...

That had to be it.

He backed further away from the fallen thugs a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t’t spare the victum a second glance. He needed to get out of there. Now.

Without a second thought he turned and ran.

Stunned violet eyes watched him leave.

When Yami got home he found the Sobeks car parked in the driveway. They originally planned to get on Yami's case for not leaving a note for them, but when they heard the door slam open they caught sight of their foster son's ashen face.

"What's wrong?" Marilyn cried in alarm. Cobalt stood up, restrained concern rolling off his shoulders in waves.

Yami frowned and muttered a quick, "Nothing." Before stomping up to his room and locking the door. His only thought was to get away and convince himself that he imagined everything and nothing was wrong. That maybe he was still dreaming...

Yami gazed at the deep gashes on his knuckles, vaguely remembering the burning hatred that ripped through him.

It was real. All of it. Oh god.

He was scared...

Scared of himself...

Because deep down inside... he liked it...