Jesse-Satan's Instrument (Sequel to Lucia-Satan's Daughter) -COMPLETED

Prologue

                Prologue

AN: For those of you who are seeing my work for the first time, please know that this is a sequel to my other story "Lucia-The Satan's Daughter".

And for those who have already read that, welcome back!!! :) I really hope that you enjoy! And now without furtherado!

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                 He woke up with a sudden gasp, his brown hair falling over his eyes. He felt a small prick against his chest. Slowly he lifted his shirt. For ten days he woke up, with that burning pain. But like always there was nothing there.

                “Nana!” He called out struggling to rise. “Nana!!!”

                “In the kitchen, dear,” She called back.

                Swiftly he rushed over towards where his grandmother sat. Her hands were clutched around a book, her feet crossed underneath her. The boy approached her, pulling up a dining chair beside where she sat. “Are you alright?” She asked.

                He nodded.

                “Are you sure?” She smiled.

                The boy returned the smile, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Yes, Nana, thank you...”

                Slowly she closed her novel. “Go take a shower,” She laughed. “You look like you need it. Bad dream?”

                He shrugged. “No, I’m fine.”

                “Go, trust me, you’ll feel better. And when you come back, I’ll have hot chocolate ready for you!”

                The boy sighed, unsure of what was wrong with him. His hands were clammy, his head was throbbing, and his chest was still burning! “Alright,”

                As the boy entered the bathroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, and gazed at the mirror. What the hell was it? His fingers grazed along the middle of his chest, down to his belly button. No cuts. No bruises. But it still stung. As if multiple blades had severed him.

                Suddenly there was a sudden crash. And from the kitchen to his ears he heard the sounds of shattering glass, metal against metal, and the sound of a body against the ground. Swiftly he ran. He felt his heart beat against his chest. His breath grew shallow.

                When he reached the kitchen he didn’t see his grandmother. No sign of a fallen woman. No sign of shattered mugs or spilt water. Nothing but a man....A man standing in the middle of his home....wearing a black suite, and a red tie, his salt and pepper hair sleeked back.

                And then the man smiled. His lips curled into a sort of sneer. And his teeth: too white for his intention. “Hello Jesse,”