Yes, another DIP fanfiction. Deal with it. :P

Summary: The Anti-Christ, Damien, is living among the humans. For the past seventeen years he's been forced to move to different school due to his violent behavior and antisocial nature. Now, he's going to South Park High and his eighteenth birthday is right around the corner, the day when he is supposed to end the world. He's been looking forward to it since he was a child, but a boy he just met is making him have doubts about his big day. Will Pip be the one to save the world?

South Park (c) Matt and Trey

FIN

Boy in the Locker

"Damien?" Carol called softly as she carefully opened the door to her adopted son's bedroom. He was still sleeping soundly.

"Damien, it's time for school." She tried again.

Damien groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

Carol cautiously entered the room, "Please Damien…"

"Fuck off." Damien growled.

"You need to go your first day…"

"Why bother? The world is ending soon anyway."

"But you need to keep up appearances until then…"

"I don't fucking care!" Damien's powerful voice filled the darkly painted room.

Carol whimpered, "Maybe you can go in later then…"

"Whatever."

Carol made a hasty exit, closing the door softly behind her. Damien sighed through his nose, sitting up with some effort. He was awake now. No point in trying to sleep any longer.

He groaned as he shuffled out of bed and over to his closet, glancing at the clock on the way.

7:32.

No point in rushing. He would be late regardless.

He threw some clothes on and headed downstairs where the two adults of the household had made breakfast.

"Good morning Damien!" The each greeted with bright smiles.

Damien growled as he sat down at the table, a plate of waffles in front of him.

"Would you like anything else dear?" Carol asked.

He shook his head.

"Just let us know of you need something." Mike added.

Damien watched them bustle around the kitchen has he ate.

They were nothing but a couple of kiss-asses. He knew the only reason they were so sickeningly nice to him was because his real father was forcing them to be.

He smirked.

His real father was Satan himself. He'd sent Damien to the surface as a child so that he could fulfill his destiny of bringing the world to an end on his 18th birthday.

Just four more months…

He quickly finished his breakfast and left the kitchen. He grabbed his backpack full of notebooks for classes and headed out the door, ignoring his parent's goodbyes.

The air was chilly. He wasn't sure if it was because they were in Colorado, because it was January, or both.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he quickly disappeared in a blaze of fire.

Within a second he found himself standing behind South Park High, the new school he would be attending for the next four months.

He walked around to the front, where a few students were standing outside, probably avoiding class.

A girl smiled at him and waved. He flipped her off.

He hated having to socialize. Everyone else was just a damn idiot.

They would all be dead soon anyway.

He quickly jogged up a set of steps until reaching the top, where he preceded to enter two large doors.

The hallway was deserted, his footsteps echoing through them with each step. Damien walked casually, his black and silver backpack tossed over one shoulder.

He wasn't sure where the office was, but he didn't really care either. He'd find it eventually.

An odd noise coming from one of the lockers caught his attention. He stopped.

A shuffling noise, then a small bang followed by several bumps made one of the lockers rattle. He walked toward it, mildly interested. The noises continued, along with a few small grunts; until finally Damien reached out and yanked open the locker.

"Eek!"

A boy fell from the locker, landing on his back. Some books and papers fell around him and his shoulder length blonde hair seemed to form a halo around his head.

Damien stared, mesmerized.

Who was this kid? And why did looking at him hurt his chest?

The boy gave a small groan and opened his eyes. He looked up at Damien, surprised.

"Oh, 'ello there." He said. His soft voice and British accent were a bit of a surprise to Damien, but he didn't let it show.

The boy pulled the lower half of his legs from the locker and sat up, "Fanks a bunch! I wus afraid I'd be in there until next passin' period."

He quickly gathered his books and papers and stood, shutting the locker. He turned and faced Damien, a large smile lighting up his face, "Oh my, you're quite a talent, aren't you?"

"What?" Damien asked, finally snapping out of his daze. What on earth was a "talent?"

"Nofing. My name is Phillip. You can call me Pip though."

"Damien."

"Chuffed to meet you. May I 'elp you find the office?"

"Uh… Sure."

"Wonderful!"

Damien looked over his new schedule with very low interest. Pip followed him out of the office, pink slip in hand.

"What's your first period?"

The black haired boy shoved the piece of paper into the British kid's hands. Pip looked over it with more interest than Damien.

"It looks like we 'ave first period togefuh, along wif fourth period, lunch and last period."

"Cool."

"I fink it's ace." Pip replied, walking in front of his new companion. He led him down the hall a few doors toward their first class of the day.

Pip knocked on the door. It opened moments later and they both entered. The teacher, who'd opened the door, took Pip's pink slip. "Locker again?" He asked, though it sounded as though he already knew the answer.

"Yes sir. Cheerio, Damien." Pip said as he quickly went and took a seat.

"And you are?" Asked the man. Damien regarded him much like he did everything and everyone else; with little interest.

"Damien. I'm new."

"Alright, take a seat somewhere then." The teacher replied.

Damien did as told, walking toward the back and sitting in an empty seat next to Pip, who gave him another smile.

He looked down at the piece of paper.

English with Mr. Smith.

How boring.

Fourth period was Chemistry with Mr. Guy. Each table was black and large enough to seat two comfortably. Damien sat next to Pip again.

"Hello ducky." Pip greeted with a smile, "How's tricks?"

"What?"

"How are you."

"Fine." Damien mumbled as he sat down, "You?"

"Right as rain."

"Uh-huh…" Damien gave him an odd look, "Why do you talk like that?"

"It's jus' what I'm used to… I lived in London from the time I was born until I was ten when I moved 'ere."

"It's odd."

"I know…"

"Then why do it? Break the habit."

"Because I can say fings wifout anyone knowing what I'm really sayin'."

"You mean like everything you say?"

"You know, back in London I was considered quite a chicken."

"…That's funny talk again, isn't it?"

Pip chuckled, "I'm bent you know."

"What?" Damien.

"You see? I jus' told you somefin' about me no one else knows, but you have no idea what it is."

"Tell me." Damien growled. He hated being shown up like that.

"Class is starting." Pip announced just seconds before the bell. Damien let out an angry sigh, suppressing the urge to throw a book.

His curiosity and pride were getting the better of him. He had to know what the hell Pip was saying.

Damien wasn't surprised to find Pip sitting at a small table alone. He had no tray of food or even a packed lunch, just a few school books that were laid open in front of him. Damien sat down across from his companion.

"Not eating?"

"Not hungry. Cafeteria food is terrible anyway." Pip said, not looking up from his science book.

Damien looked down at his own tray of food. He picked up a fork and carefully took a bite of one of the side dishes.

He shuddered.

Awful.

He pushed the tray away.

"Is there anywhere decent to eat around here?"

"You're not allowed off campus durin' lunch."

"Well that's stupid…"

"Mm." Pip made a noise of agreement.

They fell into silence, Damien staring idly at the lovely blonde Brit and Pip reading an assigned chapter.

"You don't 'ave to sit wif me, you know." Pip spoke up, still not looking up.

"Why shouldn't I?" Damien asked, hearing Pip's words as more of a challenge than anything.

"I'm sure you can find someone far more interestin' to sit by."

"I think you're very interesting."

Pip gave a small laugh, "How?"

"You're accent."

"Most everyone picks on me for it."

"Well I like it."

"Mm. The girls at the table over there are givin' you the glad-eye."

Damien looked over at a table of mostly girls, who were all taking turns glancing at him and giggling.

"Perhaps you should go introduce yourself?"

"They look annoying."

"They're all a bit chopsy, but fine other than that."

"I don't know what that means Pip."

"Hm? Oh, sorry." He finally looked up from the book, "They talk a lot."

"Couldn't you have said that in the first place?"

"I didn't notice. Sorry."

Damien shrugged, "I don't mind."

"Fanks."

"You should teach me that slang."

"That would take too long."

"I'm a quick leaner."

Pip rested his chin in his palm, staring at Damien in thought. Damien stared right back.

"…It's sort of my fing, you know?" Pip said finally, "Everyone has somefin' that they're known for or that they're good at. My odd speech is mine, even if it gets me picked on."

"Maybe it could be our thing." Damien suggested.

Pip's face heated up, a slightly surprised look crossing his soft features. It vanished and he smiled, "That might be rather fun. It might be hard to catch on quickly though."

"I'll pick it up. First things first though, what do 'chicken' and 'bent' mean?"

"I'm not tellin' you that."

"Why not? Don't you trust me?" Damien asked with a smirk.

Pip chuckled, "I met you four hours ago."

"Fine, fine. Have it your way then. But I'm going to figure it out eventually."

"Well, good luck with that then."

"You called me a 'talent' or something earlier too. And what the hell is 'choofed'?"

"It's 'chuffed' and it means happy or glad. You'll have to figure out talent on your own too."

"Goddammit…"

Pip laughed.

"How's tricks?" Damien asked as he walked into seventh period, Psychology with Mrs. Hollen, and sat down next to Pip. The blonde gave him a slightly surprised look before answering, "Eggy."

"And that is?"

"Irritated or annoyed."

"Why?"

"Class is starting." Pip said, again just seconds before the bell rang.

Damien quickly realized that he had avoided the question.

As the teacher began calling roll Damien took the time to think over the day.

Why was he so interested in Pip? There didn't seem to be anything incredibly special about him, but Damien couldn't bring himself to not be around him as much as possible.

He'd never liked anyone like he liked Pip. Hell, he never liked anyone period.

How strange.

"Where do you live?"

"You ask a lot of questions…" Pip said as he shut his locker.

"And you seem to have very little answers."

Pip chuckled, "Sorry. I live across town."

"Do you walk or ride the bus?" Damien asked as they began walking toward the doors together.

"I walk."

"I'll walk you home then."

"Oh, that's okay. You don't 'ave to."

"That wasn't a question."

"Really, it's okay. I walk myself to and from everyday."

"Well today you're going to have company."

Pip looked like he would argue as they reached the bottom of the steps, but he smiled instead, "Well, fank you very much Damien. You're a real corker you know. A great person."

If only Pip knew…

"Thanks."

"You're a bit of a coldfish though… And you're always wearin' black… Why?"

Damien could guess what coldfish probably meant.

"I like darkness."

"Oh… Why?"

"I just do…" He paused, "I'm a Satanist."

Might as well throw that out there.

"Oh my." Pip said, sounding shocked, "Well, that's certainly different."

"Does it bother you?" He let his voice take a gruff yet uncaring tone, even though he really hoped Pip was okay with it.

"Maybe a little… But it doesn't change the fact that I like you and I don't judge you for it."

"Thanks again. What about you?"

"Methodist."

Damien chuckled. "We are complete opposites." He said with a smirk.

Pip smiled, "I fink we'll be good friends."

Pips house was located in a more run down part of town and it definitely fit in with the other houses on the street.

"What do your parents do for a living?" Damien asked. He quickly realized how rude that sounded and mentally slapped himself.

"Mother teaches elementary and father is a mechanic."

"Ah… Are they here now?"

"They're still in London."

"Then who are you living with?"

"I was livin' with my Aunt Amelia, but she moved to Vegas a few months ago. I opted to stay behind and finish my senior year, then probably go back to London."

"Oh…"

They walked inside and Damien was pleasantly surprised to find it much better looking than the outside.

"It's nice in here."

"You like it? I fixed it up after auntie left. I like to keep it lookin' nice. Would you like some tea?" Pip asked as he sat his belongings down by the door.

"Sure." Damien replied, taking a seat on the couch.

"Wonderful. I'll be right back." He hurried into the kitchen.

"So, you're going back to London this summer?" Damien called in a slightly louder voice.

"More than likely." Pip called from the kitchen, "Unless I can find a way to pay for my stay 'ere. I'd need a good job to get me through college though. I really don't see it workin' out."

"We have money."

"Oh, Damien! I don't want to mooch off of your family."

"They don't get a say in it…" Damien mumbled, "Well hopefully we'll find something before you have to leave."

"Thank you. You're very sweet."

After tea and a good conversation, Damien found himself headed toward the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wonderful! Goodbye ducky."

"Bye."

He trotted down a few steps in the front of the house and stopped on the sidewalk. He made sure no one was looking before disappearing in a flash of fire and reappearing behind his house a split second later.

He walked in through the back door into the kitchen.

"Damien? Where have you been? We were worried!" Carol said when she saw him come in.

"At a friend's."

"Are they nice?"

"Very."

Damien walked past her, done with the conversation, and headed up to his room to think.

I hope everyone is okay with what I did with Pip's accent. Yes, English accents really sound like that, just not in all parts of England. A friend of mine from London replaces almost all of his "th"s with "f"s and rarely pronounces "g" at the end of "ing" or "h" at the beginning of most words. There are some other sound differences I could have added, but I was far too lazy. :P

Review?