The name's Lucifer

The 20 year old schoolteacher, Samuel Mason, is tired of his life. One his way home, he is knocked down in an alley. When he wakes up, he slowly realizes that something is different. Very different.


6. A New Day


Sam woke up with a pounding headache, and his body was feeling stiff from sleeping outside in the cold. It was still early in the morning, and the fog was still covering the small streets in the city. He sighed and tried to stand up. When he finally was standing on his own, without wavering too much, he walked out from the alley and walked back to the bar, remembering that his biked was parked there.

As he unlocked his bike in front of the closed bar, he realized what time it was.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted and jumped on the bike. As he raced through the town for the second day in a row, he could feel his anger rising to a whole new level.


He slammed the door to the classroom open, and glared evilly to the many students, who was standing in small groups and chatting, and blind to their teacher who was standing in the doorframe. Sam took a step inside, and closed the door without a sound. He walked along the wall, feeling as invisible as he had felt for a long, long time.  When he came to the desk, he turned his back to the class. He leaned his forehead on the blackboard, taking a deep breath, and put up is hands on the cold, flat surface, and then, he scratched his nails all the way down, followed by the horrible and terrifying screech. All of the students screamed, protecting their ears from the high-pitched sound and some even fell down on their knees.

“Sit.” Sam hissed through his teeth, just loud enough for the students to hear him.

Running as scared mice, they fled to their seats and took out their books. The exact second that the last kid had taken out his book, Sam slowly turned around to face the class. Everyone let out a gasp.  Their once tired, sad and miserable teacher was gone, and before their eyes stood a man, with the same clothes as their teacher the day before, but his eyes were far from hazel as they used to be. They were more red than brown, and in them burned a flame of suppressed hate. Sams hair was no longer brown but pitch black and it was now longer than ever. He was physically stronger than before, and his dark aura grew wider and wider. The children sank down in their chairs and their faces turned pale. Sam closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, his eyes were back to their normal brown color. He looked at the terrified kids, shaking, and realized that he was the source of their fear. He grabbed his bag and fled out of the room. He ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He refused to believe it. That wasn’t him staring back. He didn’t have long black hair. He broke out in sweat and started trembling as he could feel the anxiety crawl up on his spine. He got a hold of one lock of his hair, and saw his hand holding the black strains of hair. He looked in the mirror once again. The sweat trickled down his face as he could see the color of his eyes change from brown to red. He couldn’t breathe, and he stormed out, running towards the front door. His head was bursting with noises, voices who were whispering, even though the hallways were empty.

He needed to go out, he needed to escape.


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