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Into the void (The Progression of Damon Bando)

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(( Listen to this while reading. ))



May I never be complete. May I never be content.  May I never be perfect.

                                                                                - Chuck Palahniuk.

Edited by Resfiel420
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Damon was on the hunt for some real estate today, he had enough put away in his bank account that could easily score him a good place to call home.  While browsing Mirror Park, he found that good place to call home and purchased it along side a real estate agent, who was eager to sell it to him.  Damon spent the rest of the day in his new home moving around furniture, watching T.V. on his new 4k, and making food.  It wasn't much but he had a T.V dinner, probably left behind from the previous owners of the house.  Determined, he sat down and watched that movie that everybody was talking about; birdbox.  It was shitty.

Inside of his bathroom, things spiced up a bit.  Damon had always gone to the bathroom to fix up his face before bed, after-all, it was nearing 10:30 P.M. and he had work the next day.  Dipping his face into the sink and splashing it with water, he saw something in the corner of his eye inside of the mirror that wasn't all that familiar.  When returning up right and moving the residues of water from his eyes, he saw him.  He had thought, "my uniform, really?" but the face didn't belong to him.  Ryan Bando stood in front of him, a face that was familiar but did not belong in the mirror.  "It" took a new form, a terrifying surreal form.  Panicking, Damon jolted backwards in response to seeing his demon come in spitting distance of himself. A demon resting in his own reflection that didn't belong in his mirror.  Damon lost his grasp of reality, the demon moved into his new home and was just starting to unpack his surprises.  

In another state of panic, he ran back into his master bedroom where safety sat on his floor tucked away in a duty belt... his .44 pistol.  The .44 pistol that had stopped a store robbery in Ganton, the same pistol that put down his father in 2006 that snowy eerie night.  To him, it meant a lot as it granted a large amount of safety.  In a bad neighborhood, he was going to sleep with the .44 under his pillow anyway but this mirror incident sped up the process.  With the handle in his hand clutched tight, he laid there.  The six shots that were ready to be hammered out in a general direction, loaded.  Hollow points piercing the skin of those who challenged it's user.  Except, bullets cannot pass through demons as they do not exist physically.  Damon knew this.  

He felt the night drift away, his sanity drifted further.

Edited by Resfiel420
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