I hate that, being the only one that can see them. Black horns so long and teeth so sharp. The nauseating aura around them, the soreness, never felt good.
Sierraphon and Yaxem were like parasites, leeching off whatever my parents had. Time? Attention? Love? Sierra had my father twisted around her finger while Yaxem had my mother bend over backwards for him. It was disgusting, to say the least, to see how they have made my parents become. I still love my parents. It isn't their fault...
As I walked into the kitchen, I said, "Morning Mom, Dad. "
I never expected a reply. My voice tuned out into ambient noise. It had been this way for almost as long as I remember. Nothing goes in when those two territorial troublemakers came into our lives. Many times I've wished sending them back to eternal damnation was possible but a human has its limits.
I crept my way through the kitchen, avoiding her whip-like tail and his black wings of feathery leather. Invoking a reaction from Mom and Dad was not on my mind as, as far as they assumed I know, only three people are in this house.
Dry cereal in a bowl on one hand and a glass of water in another, I thought I could sneak away without anyone's notice. I managed to get to the couch and place the bowl down. I took a sip of water but a bitter taste ran down my throat. Colourless turned red.
"I'm too young for this, " I sighed as I placed the glass down, the liquid sloshing in agreement. I turned to see a devilish grin on velvet skin. The demon's yellow orbs stared hauntingly into me. "Don't give me bullshit excuses like how it doesn't matter as long as I don't get caught. "
She replied in a sickeningly sweet tone, "Stop worrying, son, just have some wine. It always made me feel better. " She paused. "Oh, and it's Sierra, but you can call me mom. "
"Never in a million years. "
"I can wait that long. "
It was impossible to tell whether or not she was joking. There was nothing stopping her from putting another curse for me to live long enough for her to hear me say.
I looked away. The uneasiness forced me to back out, grabbing my school bag with me towards the door. Going to school on an empty stomach beats staying a second longer to find out what she was going to do next. Locking the door on my way out, I heard a call from across the street.
"Elijah! " the redhead shouted. Her hair was a tangled mess. She stood with lopsided clothes and a bag weighing down on her shoulders. Sometimes I wonder how many rocks she had piled inside.
Jean had stuck with me for surprisingly long. It felt like I've known her all my life. The sight of her forest green eyes was enough to get my mind off things... but not everything.
Tomorrow would be exactly ten years since the incident and there was no telling if either of us would pull through.
"Relax, " she said, shaking me out of thought. "I promise that I will do everything to make sure tomorrow goes smoothly. " She had a smile that can rid the world of its evils. I wished she knew what she had gotten herself into.
•••
Jean and I hung out afterschool until pretty late. Far too late.
A new theatre had opened only a few days ago. She thought it would be a great idea to celebrate my birthday the day before by visiting the place. We left the theatre, talking and laughing about the crazy scenes we've just watched.
A intrusive thought entered my mind. Everything I had felt before wilted away like dry grass in a drought. Not getting a usual response,Jean turned to look.
"It's okay to feel scared, " she reminded me, holding my trembling hand tighter. "I'm with you every step of the way. "
I simply nodded. She didn't know this year would be a Hell of a lot worse than any of the previous ones. Did she know how lucky I was to even be alive at this point? Whatever her reason for staying, I was glad she followed me as I took the long way home.
My thoughts were interrupted by searing pain, like billions of needles of flame pierced every flesh and bone. Looking down, a spearhead embedded itself into the back of my thigh, fresh blood poured in a fountain of red.
No, it can't be midnight yet!
𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒! The moment I turned to look shot another spear, but rebounded against a blade. In Jean's hand was a dagger. Not a kitchen knife, a fang-shaped dagger with a serrated edges on it's inner curve.
"Where... where... From where did you get that? " I said between breaths. I tried to stay standing although my legs were starting to cave in.
Jean had an easier time, swiftly blocking the ranged attacks with her weapon. Since when did she learn this? No matter, however good she was she could never win against that demon on the rooftops.
I huffed, "Run. "
She slung my arm over her shoulder and asked, "Can you walk? "
"I can... I can try... J-Just get us to the nearest convenience store... "
After a minute, shots stopped firing. With her help, we managed to hobble over to shelter. With her bag, which I am still convinced is just full of rocks, she broke the lock into a small shop.
She hid me behind a aisle just in time as I collapsed into the ground. She secured her school tie around my thigh in an effort to stop the bleeding. She advised me to keep it elevated and wait for her to get medical supplies from the pharmacy a store over.
She always seemed to know her stuff when it comes to this. If it wasn't about treating wounds, it's about survival or combat. She never seizes to surprise me with something. Could she even be faking bad grades in school?
Back to the metal spear version of a gympie-gympie, the pain led my thoughts incoherent. It hadn't stopped bleeding either. Of course it would, why wouldn't it? Why wouldn't the demon sniper try coating his spears with bleeding charms to cause eternal suffering? The delicate carvings on the spear confirmed my suspicions— time to prepare for Yaxem's not-so-little team.
Against my better judgment, I tried to remove it. Slowly, and agonisingly, I pushed it out completely, and avoided touching the spearhead.
I searched through my pocket, finding a small salt shaker. Salt on the wound is usually the last thing you'd put... unless it's charmed or cursed by a demon.
Biting the bullet, or I guess the spear stick, I put as little salt as possible. I struggled not to scream as it dissolved into the blood. The bloodflow slowed.
"Why. The. Fuck. " Jean stood on the other end of the aisle with her first aid kit, staring at me as if I was the biggest dumbass she had ever... which isn't too far off. She ran towards me whisper-shouting, "Why would you do this?"
"Trust me, it's not as bad as it lo-" She smacked me on the forehead.
"You idiot! What if you get an infection?" she asked.
"At least I'm not bleeding to death anymore, " I responded. She muttered something under her breath as she treated what was left of the hole. Awkward silences followed.
Her skirt, white as carnations, was now soaked red like saffron. Her hands stained with more blood than she should have had. She had been with me for seven of these days, I cannot bare not seeing her for the eighth.
A small but deep voice poked into my head, whispering words that weren't mine. Would it be better off if I just stopped trying? Jean would get to live free from worry. That's what happened to my old friend Tobias. A ringing in my ear grew louder.
"I know that look, " she said. "Ignore him. " All feelings she previously held was gone, I envied how easily she can let emotions go.
"Yeah, wish you knew how hard that is, " I remarked.
Yaxem was a powerful telepath. He could rile even the toughest minds with just a thought. Anything he said, goes. 'Fortunately', he thinks it's fun not to just kill me directly with his own —or my own— hands.
Jean's dagger hung onto the side of her belt, glinting a slight blue. It was sharper than razors, clearly much harder than diamond. The weapon she had in her possession was basically impossible to be made without any magical help. Even though we've known each other for quite a while, there was a lot I didn't know about her. Absentmindedly, I asked, "What's that made from? "
"Bone. "
Her face fell as she spoke, like she lost a loved one. I couldn't put my finger on who. Her parents were happy and healthy, and her other friends went to pursue their dreams but they still kept in touch. Something told me whoever it was was much closer to her and died as tragically as being slaughtered by demons.
Silence was not a good look on her. Neither was sadness. I didn't question any further.
When Jean secured the bandage, she helped me up. I checked my phone. "00:54" in big white text covered the screen. Not even an hour has passed and I've already got a messed up leg. What a great start.
I reason, "There was only one of six assassins and he didn't chase us down. That means-"
"They've planted traps, " Jean cut in grimly.
"Yeah. "