Hi, I'm Derek Derekson. @ask-derek-derekson - Tumblr Blog

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

*Derek's face turned extremely pale the moment he saw the intruder's face to its fullest. He then yelped when the knife was no longer in his hand. He finally yelped in a very high-pitched tone when he felt arms around him and heard his voice so close.*

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

"What, Derek? Do you hate him because he survived? Do you have the gall to play favorites?" He snarled. "Or do you just hate yourself so much you take it out on him? Don't yell. Don't avoid the question. Answer. Or... I can make you as beautiful as I." He grinned, stitches under extreme stress.

*He struggled against all the handling that was being done on him before he yelped when his hair was yanked. His eyes were wide in fear as his skin turned pale when an even less prettier sight was shown to him. However, he furrowed his eyebrows a bit as he spoke.*

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

Samael held up one of the discarded eyes, pointing it at Derek. "Go on, we're all waiting. Reveal your Modus Operandi, why don't you? A method to the madness. Unless... You'd like to never see your son again? I mean, if you hate him so badly, why don't I take care of it?"

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

"Aw, what's the problem? Surely you wouldn't miss him. I mean... You were going to kick him out, anyway, because he dared argue with you." Samael cooed, feeling close to a breakthrough of some kind. "I'm taking care of it, just you and your little empire! That's all you care about, right?"

Samael let go of Derek's hair, walking to the center of the room. He made a frame with his hands. "The door is locked, double deadbolt, And Samael has the key. We see Derek contemplate any other means of escape, but there's no use."

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

"I know he's your only son, but do you?" Samael tilted his head. "You don't treat him like a son, more like a servant. You force him into things he hates, he's uncomfortable with, you yell and punish him. Do you know what happens when good men go bad? They end up like me."

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "Oh, come on now. I'm being honest, here. I only want to help. I want to help your son. Poor Eric... Suffering day in, day out. And for what? Why did it get this way?"

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

"As soon as he wises up and gets the chance, he's going to leave you. He doesn't know you give a shit about him. So if you want to look forward to the occasional tense phonecall while he lives his life without you, great! Do nothing different."

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Do you think he deserves that?" Samael glared. "Do you think that's fair?"

"There's a million reasons you could just fucking make up to give any reason to try to him, and you don't want to do any of them? It's only too late when either of you are dead."

*He then quickly turned around and grabbed Samael by the collar of his clothing, eyes watery, so close to trail into tears.*

THEN WHAT DO I DO?! IF YOU'RE SO SMART, WHAT DO I DO, HUH?!

IT'S BEEN YEARS OF THIS SHIT, HE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME BECAUSE I SURE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.

I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING.

*His breathing was rapid before he stopped, eyes wide.

Why did he say all this? Did all of that actually come out of his mouth?*

He's overjoyed, but manages to actually look serious. He makes the same frame with his hands.

"Derek is sat as his desk, across from Samael. He's been given a cup of tea. It's iced sweet tea, with a lemon wedge." He claps his hands again, making the scene as he said.

"The point isn't forgiveness, it's just making things better. I doubt either of you will ever be the same, but at least it's not the ever-swirling turmoil you've put yourself and him in." He leans forward, crossing his legs.

"There's no use trying to go back, but you have to bring yourself to a new chapter. Things aren't broken forever, but you have to try. I'm trying, too."

Samael extends a hand out for Derek to take. "I don't think we're hopeless. I just think we need to try."

*The salesman blinked a few times when he was somehow now back to his desk. He looked at the tea before looking back at Samael, listening to his words.

Once he extended his hand to Derek, he started to feel a bit sick.

He was scared. He didn't even know where to start.

There was a small framed picture on his desk that was facing down. He shakily lifted it to an upright position.

It was all of them. All that he had lost, except one.

He took his hand back before looking back at Samael's extended hand.

He was trying to. To shake his hand.

Yet it was hesitant and shaky, full of fear, confusion, frustration, and dread, not being able to push himself to do it.*

Samael closes the distance, taking Derek's hand.

"It's going to be okay. I know, it's terrifying. I can't tell you what your first step is, or when and how to take it, but I know you can do it."

He sits up a little more. "Let me give you my blessing." Samael leaned over, wiping up some blood from his eyes and drawing a sun on the back of Derek's hand.

"... Are you ready?"

*He winced a bit as the blood was painted on his hand.*

...No, but I have no choice, do I?

*He avoided eye contact, trying to still look serious and stern as always, but fear was obviously written on his face as well.*

Samael clapped a hat on Derek's shoulder. "Atta boy."

He stood up, stretching. "I believe in you, darkest before the dawn, yadda yadda. Hey, your kid's backpack was stolen, do you have any idea where it could be?"

*Derek tensed up at the question, sighing in defeat and shame, and he pulled out that same backpack from behind his desk and placed it on his desk.*

To be fair, I didn't steal it. I found it, and I was going to give it back next time he visited

"You should probably hurry it up, he needs that handkerchief." Samael knocks on the door, making it unlock.

"Nice having this chat, Derek. See you." He waved, exiting the room, going to return to the office.

I don't know where he is at the moment, so I'll have to rely on him coming back here so I can hand it to him.

Next time, if there is any, don't break in my office. I already had a situation like that before with a crazy scientist from some superparanormal organization.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." He called from behind. "Good luck, papa." he snickered.

*He slightly winced at that, his brow twitching twice at that before he rolled his eyes, finally getting back to work.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Do you think he deserves that?" Samael glared. "Do you think that's fair?"

"There's a million reasons you could just fucking make up to give any reason to try to him, and you don't want to do any of them? It's only too late when either of you are dead."

*He then quickly turned around and grabbed Samael by the collar of his clothing, eyes watery, so close to trail into tears.*

THEN WHAT DO I DO?! IF YOU'RE SO SMART, WHAT DO I DO, HUH?!

IT'S BEEN YEARS OF THIS SHIT, HE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME BECAUSE I SURE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.

I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING.

*His breathing was rapid before he stopped, eyes wide.

Why did he say all this? Did all of that actually come out of his mouth?*

He's overjoyed, but manages to actually look serious. He makes the same frame with his hands.

"Derek is sat as his desk, across from Samael. He's been given a cup of tea. It's iced sweet tea, with a lemon wedge." He claps his hands again, making the scene as he said.

"There's no use trying to go back, but you have to bring yourself to a new chapter. Things aren't broken forever, but you have to try. I'm trying, too."

Samael extends a hand out for Derek to take. "I don't think we're hopeless. I just think we need to try."

*The salesman blinked a few times when he was somehow now back to his desk. He looked at the tea before looking back at Samael, listening to his words.

Once he extended his hand to Derek, he started to feel a bit sick.

He was scared. He didn't even know where to start.

There was a small framed picture on his desk that was facing down. He shakily lifted it to an upright position.

It was all of them. All that he had lost, except one.

He took his hand back before looking back at Samael's extended hand.

He was trying to. To shake his hand.

Yet it was hesitant and shaky, full of fear, confusion, frustration, and dread, not being able to push himself to do it.*

Samael closes the distance, taking Derek's hand.

"It's going to be okay. I know, it's terrifying. I can't tell you what your first step is, or when and how to take it, but I know you can do it."

He sits up a little more. "Let me give you my blessing." Samael leaned over, wiping up some blood from his eyes and drawing a sun on the back of Derek's hand.

"... Are you ready?"

*He winced a bit as the blood was painted on his hand.*

...No, but I have no choice, do I?

*He avoided eye contact, trying to still look serious and stern as always, but fear was obviously written on his face as well.*

Samael clapped a hat on Derek's shoulder. "Atta boy."

He stood up, stretching. "I believe in you, darkest before the dawn, yadda yadda. Hey, your kid's backpack was stolen, do you have any idea where it could be?"

*Derek tensed up at the question, sighing in defeat and shame, and he pulled out that same backpack from behind his desk and placed it on his desk.*

To be fair, I didn't steal it. I found it, and I was going to give it back next time he visited

"You should probably hurry it up, he needs that handkerchief." Samael knocks on the door, making it unlock.

"Nice having this chat, Derek. See you." He waved, exiting the room, going to return to the office.

I don't know where he is at the moment, so I'll have to rely on him coming back here so I can hand it to him.

Next time, if there is any, don't break in my office. I already had a situation like that before with a crazy scientist from some superparanormal organization.

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Do you think he deserves that?" Samael glared. "Do you think that's fair?"

"There's a million reasons you could just fucking make up to give any reason to try to him, and you don't want to do any of them? It's only too late when either of you are dead."

*He then quickly turned around and grabbed Samael by the collar of his clothing, eyes watery, so close to trail into tears.*

THEN WHAT DO I DO?! IF YOU'RE SO SMART, WHAT DO I DO, HUH?!

IT'S BEEN YEARS OF THIS SHIT, HE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME BECAUSE I SURE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.

I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING.

*His breathing was rapid before he stopped, eyes wide.

Why did he say all this? Did all of that actually come out of his mouth?*

He's overjoyed, but manages to actually look serious. He makes the same frame with his hands.

"Derek is sat as his desk, across from Samael. He's been given a cup of tea. It's iced sweet tea, with a lemon wedge." He claps his hands again, making the scene as he said.

"There's no use trying to go back, but you have to bring yourself to a new chapter. Things aren't broken forever, but you have to try. I'm trying, too."

Samael extends a hand out for Derek to take. "I don't think we're hopeless. I just think we need to try."

*The salesman blinked a few times when he was somehow now back to his desk. He looked at the tea before looking back at Samael, listening to his words.

Once he extended his hand to Derek, he started to feel a bit sick.

He was scared. He didn't even know where to start.

There was a small framed picture on his desk that was facing down. He shakily lifted it to an upright position.

It was all of them. All that he had lost, except one.

He took his hand back before looking back at Samael's extended hand.

He was trying to. To shake his hand.

Yet it was hesitant and shaky, full of fear, confusion, frustration, and dread, not being able to push himself to do it.*

Samael closes the distance, taking Derek's hand.

"It's going to be okay. I know, it's terrifying. I can't tell you what your first step is, or when and how to take it, but I know you can do it."

He sits up a little more. "Let me give you my blessing." Samael leaned over, wiping up some blood from his eyes and drawing a sun on the back of Derek's hand.

"... Are you ready?"

*He winced a bit as the blood was painted on his hand.*

...No, but I have no choice, do I?

*He avoided eye contact, trying to still look serious and stern as always, but fear was obviously written on his face as well.*

Samael clapped a hat on Derek's shoulder. "Atta boy."

He stood up, stretching. "I believe in you, darkest before the dawn, yadda yadda. Hey, your kid's backpack was stolen, do you have any idea where it could be?"

*Derek tensed up at the question, sighing in defeat and shame, and he pulled out that same backpack from behind his desk and placed it on his desk.*

To be fair, I didn't steal it. I found it, and I was going to give it back next time he visited

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Do you think he deserves that?" Samael glared. "Do you think that's fair?"

"There's a million reasons you could just fucking make up to give any reason to try to him, and you don't want to do any of them? It's only too late when either of you are dead."

*He then quickly turned around and grabbed Samael by the collar of his clothing, eyes watery, so close to trail into tears.*

THEN WHAT DO I DO?! IF YOU'RE SO SMART, WHAT DO I DO, HUH?!

IT'S BEEN YEARS OF THIS SHIT, HE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME BECAUSE I SURE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.

I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING.

*His breathing was rapid before he stopped, eyes wide.

Why did he say all this? Did all of that actually come out of his mouth?*

He's overjoyed, but manages to actually look serious. He makes the same frame with his hands.

"Derek is sat as his desk, across from Samael. He's been given a cup of tea. It's iced sweet tea, with a lemon wedge." He claps his hands again, making the scene as he said.

"There's no use trying to go back, but you have to bring yourself to a new chapter. Things aren't broken forever, but you have to try. I'm trying, too."

Samael extends a hand out for Derek to take. "I don't think we're hopeless. I just think we need to try."

*The salesman blinked a few times when he was somehow now back to his desk. He looked at the tea before looking back at Samael, listening to his words.

Once he extended his hand to Derek, he started to feel a bit sick.

He was scared. He didn't even know where to start.

There was a small framed picture on his desk that was facing down. He shakily lifted it to an upright position.

It was all of them. All that he had lost, except one.

He took his hand back before looking back at Samael's extended hand.

He was trying to. To shake his hand.

Yet it was hesitant and shaky, full of fear, confusion, frustration, and dread, not being able to push himself to do it.*

Samael closes the distance, taking Derek's hand.

"It's going to be okay. I know, it's terrifying. I can't tell you what your first step is, or when and how to take it, but I know you can do it."

He sits up a little more. "Let me give you my blessing." Samael leaned over, wiping up some blood from his eyes and drawing a sun on the back of Derek's hand.

"... Are you ready?"

*He winced a bit as the blood was painted on his hand.*

...No, but I have no choice, do I?

*He avoided eye contact, trying to still look serious and stern as always, but fear was obviously written on his face as well.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Do you think he deserves that?" Samael glared. "Do you think that's fair?"

"There's a million reasons you could just fucking make up to give any reason to try to him, and you don't want to do any of them? It's only too late when either of you are dead."

*He then quickly turned around and grabbed Samael by the collar of his clothing, eyes watery, so close to trail into tears.*

THEN WHAT DO I DO?! IF YOU'RE SO SMART, WHAT DO I DO, HUH?!

IT'S BEEN YEARS OF THIS SHIT, HE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME BECAUSE I SURE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.

I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING.

*His breathing was rapid before he stopped, eyes wide.

Why did he say all this? Did all of that actually come out of his mouth?*

He's overjoyed, but manages to actually look serious. He makes the same frame with his hands.

"Derek is sat as his desk, across from Samael. He's been given a cup of tea. It's iced sweet tea, with a lemon wedge." He claps his hands again, making the scene as he said.

"There's no use trying to go back, but you have to bring yourself to a new chapter. Things aren't broken forever, but you have to try. I'm trying, too."

Samael extends a hand out for Derek to take. "I don't think we're hopeless. I just think we need to try."

*The salesman blinked a few times when he was somehow now back to his desk. He looked at the tea before looking back at Samael, listening to his words.

Once he extended his hand to Derek, he started to feel a bit sick.

He was scared. He didn't even know where to start.

There was a small framed picture on his desk that was facing down. He shakily lifted it to an upright position.

It was all of them. All that he had lost, except one.

He took his hand back before looking back at Samael's extended hand.

He was trying to. To shake his hand.

Yet it was hesitant and shaky, full of fear, confusion, frustration, and dread, not being able to push himself to do it.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Do you think he deserves that?" Samael glared. "Do you think that's fair?"

"There's a million reasons you could just fucking make up to give any reason to try to him, and you don't want to do any of them? It's only too late when either of you are dead."

*He then quickly turned around and grabbed Samael by the collar of his clothing, eyes watery, so close to trail into tears.*

THEN WHAT DO I DO?! IF YOU'RE SO SMART, WHAT DO I DO, HUH?!

IT'S BEEN YEARS OF THIS SHIT, HE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME BECAUSE I SURE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.

I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING.

*His breathing was rapid before he stopped, eyes wide.

Why did he say all this? Did all of that actually come out of his mouth?*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Samael yawned. "Or... You could get your act together and try to salvage the trash heap you've made yourself."

...No.

It's too late, don't you understand?

I can't- it's not me. It's not something I would do.

He'll never believe it, okay?

...I can't fix what's been broken, far too gone to be repaired.

...Just...so long he's alive...that's all that matters.

*He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to sound a little more unstable.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

"I thought he might cry when we met. Breaking his back under the weight of all the work you give him. Just him. No one else. Is that fair?"

...

You don't know what it's like.

I could care less if you're a God. Everyone has their struggles.

Everyone has their pain. Their sorrow.

Their loss.

I may not tell him, but I will never allow anyone to lay a hand on him while I live.

So just... shut up.

*Now he avoided his face to be seen, turning away.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

"Because I am a god, Derekson. I said that already." Samael leaned against the desk, smiling. "You don't listen."

"If it helps I could make you a little booth. Would that feel better?"

NO!

You're giving the nature of the fucking opposite of a God! You're a devil!

There is no way in hell that you're here just for me to confess. You want more.

What the fuck do you want.

*He kept his distance, not wishing to be any close to Samael.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

"Why? Because I'm right, and you're too afraid to admit it?" Samael carefully returning his eyes back in place.

"Go on, confess. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Not to you.

Fuck. You.

How the fuck do you have the audacity to ask me for such thing.

*Even though he said that, he didn't deny having nothing to confess.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

He sneered. "What would your wife think if she saw this? I think she'd spit on the ground you walk on."

SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!

*Derek then gripped onto his own hair, the grip tight.

If you squinted your eyes, there were tears at the corner of his eyes.*

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Samael clapped his hands together, and what he said became true, the new lock clicking. Samael spun on his heel, grinning at Derek.

*The salesman stood there in shock and confusion as Samael stated that the door was now locked with a new key. He then booked it to the door and tried everything to open it.

Turn the nob desperately, use his body weight to try to bring it down, etc.*

Don't fucking touch him, YOU HEAR?!

HE'S MY SON. MY ONLY SON.

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

"Oh, was he certain?" Samael taunted, gracing the pocket knife on Derek's cheek. "You're hardly in a position to negotiate, Derekson. You are at a god's mercy, somewhere no one enjoys being."

*His eyes were already wide at the fear that ran through him, but that threat towards his son instead made it worse with shock and anger.*

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE LAY A HAND ON HIM, YOU HEAR?! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU'RE A GOD.

STAY AWAY FROM HIM.

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*

"God, Derek, it's like you don't wanna hang out! Chill out a little! You know, this is why your son is so anxious." Samael pulled at Derek's mouth, forcing a smile.

"I think you and I both know he deserves better." His voice is cold, now. "It's fucking tragic. He still loves you, even though you just can't fucking seem to get your act together. And for what?"

He yanked Derek's hair, forcing him to meet eyes with Samael. The sockets were empty, and gold pinpricks burned.

F-fuck you. You are no one for me to tell such things to, you fucking freak.

Derek had left his office for one reason or another, whatever it was he did.

When he returned, a sticky note was on the door, with his writing. A rude comment towards Eric.

When he entered, the room was supposedly empty, but there was an unshakeable presence.

-@god-complex-narrative

What the hell?

*He took the sticky note, looked at it for a second, and then crumbled it in his hand. After he entered, he sighed at seeing everything in order but was annoyed at the unshakable feeling.*

Whatever, I'm just probably tired.

*He maneuvered to his desk, sitting on his desk as he got to work.*

"Oh yeah, that must be it." Samael agreed, taking a seat across from Derek, placing his feet on the desk.

"Poor, overworked Derek, he must be seeing things." It grins, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling. "It's just tragic. A single father, too."

WHAT THE FUCK-

*The salesman immediately got up and backed away as quickly as possible, blinking a couple of times.*

WHAT'S WITH PEOPLE BREAKING INTO MY OFFICE NOW?!?

"Hm?" Samael grinned. "Oh, I was here before you. I was let right in."

He climbed up onto the desk, sitting down. He holds Derek's face by the jaw, tilting him around.

"Hm... Yeah." Samael sighed, putting the next sticky note on Derek's forehead.

WH- HEY! GET OFF OF ME!!!

*He quickly slapped the hand on his jaw away and backed away once more, pulling out his trusty pocket knife, pointing the plade at the intruder's direction with a shaky grip.*

I LOCK THIS PLACE EVERYTIME I'M IN OR OUT. YOU BROKE IN.

GET OUT.

Samael laughs, wheezing. It removes its mask, revealing the slashed and stitched scars on his mouth. It takes the knife in his teeth, falling back towards the floor.

Samael wraps his arms around Derek from behind. "So, how's Eric been? Did you hear he lost his handkerchief? The one made by his mother... What was her name again?"

GET OFF OF ME, YOU FREAK!!!

*He tried flailing a bit to get him off.*