Killing is Nothing Personal- pic of Damien

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The picture to the right (I’m not going to put an arrow pointing to it, you probably know the drill by now), by the way, is Damien. Doesn’t he look sinister?

Oh, and I'm sorry, but I have midterms coming up and couldn’t make it as long as I meant to. So, even though I said there would be an explanation of the pic of the Governess in this chapter…well…I didn’t get to it…it’ll have to wait until next chapter, okay?!

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DJ sighed and looked around his small room. There was an overwhelming amount of nothing. The room was a square, about an arms width wide with no color. It was just a boring white cube. Even the door was painted white and blended in perfectly with the wall. There was nothing to do or look at. They hadn’t even given him a ball to bounce off the walls.

This was where he was going to spend most of his days from now on. Whenever Damien didn’t feel like having him around to boss around, he was sent to this holding cell by an order from Damien to go there.

This curse thing was going to drive him insane in less than a week.  That is, unless Damien ordered him to remain sane.

So far, Damien had done everything he could think of to drill DJ for information about Alexander and Miranda, and then possible strategies and battle techniques they might use. DJ had done his best to keep anything useful away from Damien, it obviously helped that at that moment he didn’t really know all that much that could be useful.

After that, DJ had been given paperwork to do. Then he had to train new recruits. Then he had to man the telephones. Then track down a couple of rogue vampires that Division was ‘interested in.’ He had been ordered not to ask anything further.

After that, Damien had grown tired of hearing his grumbling and insults and had just sent him to this room.

For hours.

With absolutely nothing to do.

Maybe this was what going insane felt like.

DJ sighed, digging into the white wall with his hands. He didn’t really intend to escape (Damien had clearly instructed him not to do that), but he just needed something to do.

Suddenly, there was a click of metal bolts being slid back. DJ jumped up guiltily and stared at the door that was slowly being pushed open. A big, burly man nodded to DJ in sympathy. From what DJ could tell by their past two encounters, this man was Damien’s right-hand-grunt and wanted the job almost as much as DJ. He didn’t know his name, so DJ had mentally nick-named him ‘Thug.’

With a scowl of disgust known only to those being forced into menial labor, Thug stepped aside and Damien came into view. DJ glared, wishing he had the ability of laser eyes instead of speed. What he would give for a way to kill this man! No matter how strongly Alexander felt, there was no way he could ever hate Damien as much as DJ did now. And to think, before DJ had tried to get his friend to see Damien’s side! To work with him!

Damien raised an eyebrow, “And here I was thinking you would like to come out of here. I had assumed that you would want a distraction from…all that’s going on here.” With a quick sweep of his hand, he gestured to empty room that, according to his sarcastic comment, was just bursting with activity.

DJ rolled his eyes, since he had found out about the curse Damien had become even more of a jerk. If that was possible.

“What do you want this time, Damien? Got some papers you really need someone to hole punch? Or do I get to see the action this time and track down where the paper clips have disappeared to?”

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