Prelude
The three people crowded around the crib, one lady gently rocking it back and forth in puppy pajamas. She had brown, soft eyes and dirty blond hair tumbling to her shoulders. Her face was riddled with worry.
“Well, My Lord?” One man asked, staring at the small two month old sleeping soundly in the crib, her thumb in her mouth. He had a light blue robe with two silver tassels.
“It is hard to say,” A man mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. He wore a blood red rose with four sleek, golden tassels. His blond hair was wild, and his black eyes seemed to be miserable. The lady’s light, icy blue eyes stared at him with hope and doubt. “And yet, it has never been so clear to me.” He finished.
“My Lord?” Asked the lady, her eyebrows knit with confusion.
“You are a Messenger, are you not?” He asked her. Slowly, she nodded, her head bowing in shame. “Go. Spread the news. It’s the time. The child we have been waiting for- we have been praying for- has been gifted to us.”
The lady, confused yet clearly excited, nodded. With a small grunt, she shrunk down. Her hair crawled back into her head, and horns emerged down her spine until her forehead in return. Her eyes turned a coal back as her skin turned a harsh red.
“It has been a while.” She said at their glares. With a nod to them and a worried look at the baby, she cranked open the rusty, huge window. With a final glance backwards, she pushed from the floor and soared into the night sky.
The creaking of the window awoke the child. She whined a tad before screaming loudly.
“M-My L-lord,” The man’s voice trembled, “T-take a look.”
The man in the red robe turn from the window to the baby, staring at it.
“Now I am certain.” He mumbled to himself, the child’s blood red eyes staring right back at him unnervingly.
Chapter 1
The girl sighed, her backpack pulling at her shoulders. Towering in front of my was her home- the Drak Cult ‘Orphanage’. It was a pale pink color that lost any color other than an off-white at least ten years ago. A simple wooden door towered at least halfway up the first floor, much like the door of a cathedral; and it stacked at least 5 stories up, titling slightly to the left. It was a very odd sight in the suburbs of the city. She groaned, internally thrice damning the cult in its entirety. Especially the way it altered its people. If only she wasn’t already 'irreversibly changed', she’d run away from this Hell!
The girl herself wasn’t at all like the building. She was short and a tad overweight, but not enough to harm her or her athletic lifestyle. Her eyes were as blue as a sapphire, and almost might be mistaken for gems in her eyes. Her nose was too small for good looks, and out of proportion with her thick shoulders, short build and large feet. Light freckles swarmed her face like a school of angry tuna, blurring and overlapping each other. And as for her most confusing feature, her hair? Let’s just say it’s naturally silver. Not like an old person, tired and worn grey; A radiating, healthy silver, which tumbled to her shoulders with small curls scattered about.
“Demoni, get you’re as-” An adult said from the door, before looking behind her to see a few children running around,
“Butt in here before I tan your hide!” She yelled, her tired black eyes piercing through the girl. Her straight, exhausted and clearly miserable black was in a bun at the back of her head, with a wooden, faded pink flower in it.
“I’m coming, Berarti.” Demoni said, trotting up to the door.
“And tie up your hideous hair.” Ber added as Demoni walked past her, inside. With a hair tie she grabbed from the table- as it was a fashion of the girls of Drak to never cut their hair, plenty of people needed them- She put it into a messy bun and glanced at herself in the mirror with a nod.
“Dem, Dem!” A little girl cried, a small leopard-like stuffed animal hanging from her hand. She was one of the only girls
in the orphanage who followed behind Dem and cut her hair, and it still fell in blond spirals to her midriff. Her brown, mud-colored eyes gleamed of excitement as she grabbed onto her adopter mother’s leg.
“Jeeze, Buruk. Give me a little leg room.” Dem chuckled at her own pun. With happiness flowing from every pore of her body, she looked up at Demoni and shook her head. “Fine. But only for a little while.” She was used to carrying the three year old around, anyways.
She limped up a whole flight of stairs before prying the child off and putting her on a hip to carry her up the next two. She turned then down a hallways with peeling beige walls, into their shared room.
Her only other roommate, Masama, was making one of her rare appearances in her room, often spending the night with friends to get away from this place.
“Dems.” She said simply, reading her paper.
“Hey, Masa.” Demoni said, huffing from the giggling three year old’s weight. Masa didn’t reply, only turn the page with a scowl on her face. Dem put her bag under her tidy back bed. There were three beds in the blue room (she had used her own money to buy new paint a few months ago, because she couldn’t stand the rosy pink, chipping walls).
One was against the left wall- Masa’s bed, where Masa herself was sprawled. It was a pink that used to match the original walls. It was disorganized and her pink school bag was against the wall in the corner. Masa’s bag and bed was a polar opposite with the girl herself. Masa was in a word, depressed. The sort of leave-me-alone-I’m-dying-in-the-corner depressed. Heavy black eye shadow and eyeliner was on her face, and her plain black clothes passed her sad feeling. Dem pitied her beyond comprehension.
The bubbly Buruk’s bed was on the back wall. On it was about ten stuffen animals, but her favorite was the spotted leopard she called Spot. Her bed was black with white circles on it. Right above her bed was the only painting in the entire room- one of a cartoon dragon with a flame coming from its mouth.
Demoni’s own bed was a placid black with white pillows. It was completely neat- except for one lizard stuffed animal tossed carelessly on her bed. With a frown, she put the stuffed animal back on Buruk’s bed.
“I’ve been looking for Lizzy!” She yelped happily, pouncing onto her bed with a huge smile.
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About twenty math problems and an essay later, Demoni put down her work with a sigh of relief. Tucking all of her school binders and folders back into her back pack, she put it back under her bed. Buruk, sleeping regardless of the fact it was only 3 PM, snuggled with her lizard stuffed animal and dreamed with a smile.
If only my dreams were as happy as hers, Demoni thought to herself. She was envious of the care-free Buruk, but she would never let anyone see that. She trudded out of the room and down three flights of stairs, into the main room where Ber was sitting with some sort of curb appeal magazine in her hand.
“Finally going to clean the place up?” I asked her. She peered above her crystal clear glasses at me.
“Funny joke.” She hissed back.
“Can’t say I don’t try.”
“I’d think a 14 year old would have more respect for a 6- an elder like me.” She replied.
“Then that’s your fault. I’m not the one who raised me.” I replied, my hate for Ber boiling in my heart.
“Get to your job.” She hissed. I nodded, grabbing my simple denim purse from the hook and one of the five cell phones from the table- if one of the older girls was going out, she’d take a cell phone in case of emergency.
I tucked the plain, old flip-phone into my purse, wondering if it even worked anymore. God forbid I ever needed to find out!
I strode out the massive door, back on to the cracked side walk. Sparse cars zipped past her on these back roads, and the few that did had no regard for speed limits- just like the police had no regard to enforce them.
After the sort walk, she entered her workplace- a convenience store. It was shaped sort of like a hexagon; on one wall was magazines and cigarettes, along with lighters; another was the hot dog machine and the soda fountain; the third, an assortment of candy; the next, a fridge with various drinks and beers; fifth, toys and diapers; and the last one was novelty items and souvenirs for the neighboring city- Ely, NV. In the middle was a sort of hub with forsted glass except for the one door and the counter.
The other worker came out from behind the counter in elation. He was bout sixteen, had enough pimples to spare, and
pretended she never existed, other than giving me the key ring.
She grabbed the keys from the boy as he walked out the door.
The inside of the small hub was plain and a tad claustrophobic. There was an office chair and a computer, along with about ten rolls of various lottery cards. She immediately went to the computer and typed in Drak Cult.
Demoni has always always been suspicious of her cult, and with good reason. She knew there was an irreversible change when you were sworn into the cult. She knew there was some sort of transformation. Ber had told her when she was eleven, “The cult is not one to be toyed with. We come from the Gods, and the God’s children. We are their creations. The Gods made the ultimate holy spirit- a horse, a horse with a strange… weapon. But this horse was too powerful. It almost rid the world of evil. The underlord said to himself, ‘this will simply not do. I need an evil being built to destroy this horse.’ And so, he created us. He gave us fangs as strong as diamond, so we could break the horses’ h- weapon, and he gave us wings so we could drop on them. He gave us claws to rip their hides, and the most important gift of all - fire, so we could burn the horse and kill not only it’s mortal body but it’s spirit as well.”
Ber had chosen her words carefully, but Demoni was going to find out once and for all what she was. Between her unnaturally long nails that came within minutes unbidden, and her teeth that could sharpen and stretch themselves, she was through with wondering.
Ring, ding-a-ding! The bell above the door chimed as it swung.
With a mental groan, Demoni ripped herself from the load screen to see her customer.
He was around her age, if not a tad older, and had the most beautiful hair she’s seen in her entire life. It was so strange, it was almost… gold. He was almost white, he was so pale- which was almost an impossible thing in Nevada. She made a short guess that he was visiting or perhaps just moved here from HotBoy City in Heaven, The Sky. He stared at her just as long as she stared at him- which was a long time.
“Hello.” He said ultimately.
“Hello.” She replied with wide eyes. With a jolt she remembered my line. “May I help you?” She asked as sweetly as I could- but for it came off a tad rough.
“Oh. I was.. uh…” He started. “Oh right! I was getting some snacks.” He lied. He had been told to go there by his cult’s spiritual leader about a year ago, and he had anticipated it; and now he sparsely knew why he felt such a pull to this strange, mysterious, even a bit dangerous seeming girl. He meandered to the snack wall, his eyes never really leaving the girl- and her eyes never really leaving his. Something about each other made them put their guard up, but something about each other also made them infinitely curious.
“You want to…. Hang out?” He asked clumsily, mentally scolding himself. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know you, and-”
“That sounds… great.” Demoni said with a slight smile.
Ta-Da! The new version.
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