#drabbles of a witch and their weird baby creature

[amildartist]

Drabbles of a Witch and Their Weird Baby Creature | Chapter One

Congratulations, it's an Adam

At first glance, the thing looked like a toddler but the eyes were giving it away as something not entirely human. It was dazed, blinking sluggishly and cooing nonsense, and—when you tried to hold it close after digging it out of the trash—it tried to bite you with unnaturally sharp canines. It missed you entirely but it tried again with squinted, unfocused eyes. You decided to tuck it under your arm like a football until you were safely back inside your apartment. Currently, you were watching it from a safe distance and flipping rapidly through your family grimoire. Its bright yellow eyes watched you, an eyebrow quirked up and mouth pressed into an expression you could only describe as superiority.

“Listen,” you muttered, closing the large tome with a swift flick of your wrist, “I don’t know what the fuck you are but—”

It scoffed.

“—But you are not going to eat me.”

Another eyebrow raised. It rolled its eyes, a babbling vocal wobble suggesting it was trying to laugh at you. You glared at it. It glared back. “You’re also not eating my magic,” you continued bitterly. It looked like a magic-eater in the vaguest sense, you thought, but the shape was wrong and this creature actually had a face. And hair. It lost the glare and—for a brief moment—you see a flicker of uncertainty cross its eyes, its chubby hand curled into a weak fist. Then the moment is over and its lips quirk up into a cattish grin.

You stood there for a while, your eyes falling over it. It had pale brown hair, yellow eyes, and wore an oversized thing with a bold A on the front. It was only because you were watching the creature so closely that you finally noticed the quiver. Starting from the corner of its lips, to the shoulders, to the arms, and ending with its fingers currently gripping the couch you plopped it on. Against your best judgment, your eyes softened and you kneeled in front of it. It watched you just as closely as you were watching it. “It’s…” you hesitate for a moment, “it’s alright to be scared. You don’t know where you are, right? And I guess I might look like a giant to you, but I promise I’m not going to—”

Its small hand flew at your face and bounced harmlessly off your forehead. Its eyebrows furrowed before it kicked out with an equally weak (and short) leg at your chest. “Hey! It’s alright.” You held out your hands, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. It froze, panting and wild-eyed, shaking like a leaf in the wind. You couldn’t tell if it was because of fear or if it was from the effort of trying to hurt you. Could be both, you thought. There was a slight hint of guilt bubbling inside of your chest. You sure as hell wasn’t being very gentle with it, after all. “Hey,” you tried again while the creature caught its breath, “I’m seriously not going to hurt you. There’s nothing to be afraid about.” You reached out to it slowly, your fingers brushing against its hair in an awkward attempt to comfort it. It flinched, its eyes suddenly gaining a calculating light. Before you could pull away, it abruptly opened its mouth and latched onto your palm, a stuttering growl emanating from it.

“Fuck!” You shook your hand instinctively and it became a blur of muddied colors, its jaw tightly clenched like some sort of weird human-shark-dog. Its teeth were embedded inside of you and—fuck!—it stung. What did your aunt do when she was attacked by that dog? Something, something, jaw leverage. Your free hand squished its cheeks, managing a small amount of relief when the pressure forced its mouth open. “Let go,” your voice came out a lot calmer than you currently felt. It glared, bit down as hard as it could with your fingers digging into its cheeks, and shook its head. A fucking rabid animal. You picked up a fucking rabid animal. Your sharp, weepy groan inspired it to shake again. Tears forming in your eyes—and blood now seeping between your fingers—you shook your arm one more time and flung it back and forth as quickly as you were able to. Just to disorient it long enough.

“When you wake up, you better be calm.” It looked up at you with a furrowed brow. You snapped the fingers of your free hand, multi-colored sparkles coated it in a cloud of fine dust. It sunk deep into its skin. Yellow eyes widened, flickering back and forth between your face and your free hand, before they wavered and finally—finally—slipped closed. Its jaw took longer to release you. Trembling as though, even in sleep, the thing wanted to attack you. Sleep finally claimed it.

It fell face-first forward against your chest. Your face twisted into a grimace. “Of course, you drool, you fucking weird gremlin creature.” You patted its back and you quickly discovered it also growls in its sleep.

NEXT

[xiubaek-13]

Unusual Suspects

Prompt: Minseok (feat Baekhyun, sorrynotsorry) + “You taste like fucking candy.” + “You heard me. Take it off.”

Setting/AU: Vampire

Warnings: it’s kind of a crack drabble, mentions of blood & death, supernatural themes, swearing, standard vampire stuff, implied smut.

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: Again, sorry this took so long anon, I hope you enjoy it. The idea was originally going to be a witch/wizard au but the vampire one came to me after seeing this prompt and I kept laughing about it so I had to make it happen. 

***

  Knock knock.

You groan from underneath the pillow you’d put over your head in an attempt to block out the incessant knocking at your front door. Who the fuck door knocks at this time of night? You sleepily grabbed your phone, the screen illuminating, temporarily blinding you while showing you the ungodly hour of 3am.

    Knock knock.

Three in the fucking morning. You had no missed calls, unread messages or anything to indicate that someone needed you, and really, if they needed you then odds were that they also knew where your spare key was kept and would just let themselves in.

    Knock knock.

You threw the covers off in a huff, half asleep, barely human and 100% pissed off - like a cat when it has to have a bath. You got up and stumbled to the door, your equilibrium not quite caught up to the fact that your body was upright and moving. You did pretty well to only fall into the wall twice.  

Your hair was a mess and you probably had drool on your face but those were things that alert people considered, not abruptly awoken in the middle of the goddamned night people. Those people only had three thoughts - Do I need to pee? Who do I kill for waking me? And Can I go back to sleep now?. You flung the door open - again, alert people would probably have some sense of self preservation and maybe not open the door at 3am to complete strangers - and grumpily sized up the two people in front of you. Why the fuck did they look so pleasant and AWAKE? The two men in front of you seemed pleasantly surprised that you’d opened the door.

They didn’t look at you like they’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes knocking on your front door, no they looked like the picture perfect missionaries who usually woke you up (at a much more reasonable hour of 8 or 9am). One wore white, the other wore black. Both had black hair, styled more than your standard missionary would have theirs but who knew what the hell these two did given they were knocking on your goddamned door at 3am, maybe they were a bit vain, you didn’t care. They looked rather harmless to you in your current state. The only thing that stood out were their eyes, those were far too intense for your standard missionaries, even your barely awake, murderous self could see that. Still, there were people knocking on your door at 3am who looked poised to try and sell you on the word of god and you were not having it. Jesus would want you to be well rested if he expected you to follow the thou shalt not murder commandment.

All you wanted was to go back to bed and be left alone. 3am was not  time for a conversation on your doorstep. You wanted them gone, the sooner the better. “Seriously, what the hell do yo-”

The one in white smiled sweetly at you as he stepped forward and asked. “Hello! Do you have a minute to talk about Dracula?”

You couldn’t believe you were about to shut down the messengers of god this early in the morning but here you were. Normally you played along then gave some witty remark about making a deal with a crossroads demon or telling them that you were actually the antichrist, or that you were waiting for your human sacrifice to turn up. Those were always post coffee conversations, when your wit was less bitchy. These two weren’t getting any of that treatment today. No, you were going to keep it short and sweet. A simple ‘no’ then you could close the door and go back to bed. “No- wait, Dracula?” Well that was unexpected. It did explain the stupid hour of the day though.

“Yes!” The one in black stepped forward as well, smiling warmly, happy that you’d basically recanted your rejection of their presence.

“You’re vampires?” You asked. You weren’t quite awake enough to remember two very, very important things. 1. Vampires were not real and 2. If they were by some weird twist of fate, actually real vampires, then you most definitely should not invite them in. You should close the door, go back to bed and sleep it off. You didn’t do that though, instead opting to rub your eyes and take a proper look at these alleged vampires. The one in white was slightly taller than the other. He had broad shoulders, dark tousled hair, khol lined eyes & a lean body. Everything about him appealed to you, which made sense if you were to believe that he was a creature of the night. You could happily ogle him for hours but you mind reminded you that a) it was rude to stare and b) there was another man for you to roam your eyes over. You stared at him unabashedly which didn’t seem to unnerve him, if anything it interested him. He was only slightly taller than you, with dark hair that fell into his feline eyes, which were also lined, but with a smoky red liner. His black shirt clung to him and you could see that whilst he wasn’t as tall as his partner, he was muscular.

As you stared at the two men the one in black smirked at you and spoke softly. “Yes. We have pamphlets.” As he spoke the other held out one of the aforementioned pamphlets in his delicate fingers. This whole encounter so far was utterly ludicrous.

You took it from him and flipped it over in your hands, confused as the logical part of your brain tried to get through to you. “Vampires have missionaries?” The concept seemed utterly stupid. Vampires were the fictional beasts from gothic horror. They were entities with powers that were almost unmatched, not quiet door to door missionaries like the pair standing in front of you. Still, you had questions. Even if they were scamming you, they had piqued your interest.

“Where else would new vampires come from?” The taller of the two asked, cocking his head to the side as he laughed lightly at your question like you were the one saying crazy outlandish things.

“I assumed you bit people.” You shrugged. If you were to believe the tales from your childhood, vampires - still fictional - created more of their kind by biting someone and draining them of their blood, and once the person was at death’s door they fed them some of their blood. Then they let them die. Once the victim died the blood in their system would raise them as a new baby vampire. The stories were always like this, some small variations existed here and there but what do semantics matter when the whole concept is fictional?

The shorter one frowned slightly at your response and nodded, clasping his hands behind him. “There are many harmful stereotypes. May we come in?”

“I guess.” Was your stupid answer, stupid because had you been more awake or even remotely concerned for your safety you would have never let two strangers into your home during the day, let alone at 3 in the goddamned morning. But the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. Not even five minutes ago you’d been ready to tell whoever was at your door exactly where they could go and/or what implement to shove up their own ass so that you could get yourself back into bed and back to sleep but here you were, stepping aside to let the two men (whose names you hadn’t bothered to ask because manners were also apparently not a thing right now) enter your home.

You led them to your kitchen and started to pour yourself a glass of juice. “Should I offer either of you a drink or is that a little on the nose?”

The taller one laughed and shook his head. “And she’s funny at 3am, I like her.”

“I must apologise for my partner. He appears to have forgotten his manners. My name is Xiumin & this is Baekhyun.” He inclined his head towards his partner who just seemed happy to be indoors.

“We don’t usually get this far to be honest. People usually say some rather crude things to us.” Baekhyun looked around the room, his eyes shining. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks? It’s a mess right now but it’s super early or super late, who the hell knows, and I wasn’t expecting guests.” You stifle a yawn as you vaguely gesture around the room.

Xiumin stepped forward, drawing your attention back to him. His sharp gaze held you in your spot as he smirked and closed the gap between the two of you. “You know, you really should be more careful. Letting two complete strangers into your home at any hour is a risk but in the dead of the night after they told you they were vampires? That’s downright stupid.”

You froze as you finally realised the position you were in. Whilst they weren’t hulking muscle pigs you were outnumbered and you were pretty sure they were still stronger than you. “The vampire thing is a joke though, right?” You half heartedly laughed. “I mean they aren’t real…”

You turned your head as you heard Baekhyun chuckle from across the room as he inspected some of the photos you had pinned to a board. He paused with a photo of you and your best friend in his hands and looked at you, his eyes darker and more menacing than before. “Oh my dear, vampires are very real. We’ve just had to amend our methods of conversion over the years.” Your eyes widened in fear as you spotted his fangs as he spoke. “We figured it worked so well for the church over the years, so why not try it. We increase both our numbers and our real estate portfolio for every home we’re invited into.”

You were scared, there was no point in denying that fact, but the more time you spent with the two of them, the more comfortable you felt in their presence. The longer they spoke to you, the less terrified you became. You figured you’d try to keep them talking until that fear subsided a bit more. Then you’d be able to work out a way out of this, negotiate with them or something.

You kept them talking, asking their answers to other common stereotypes associated with vampires. You figured they’d have to have them in case someone didn’t let them into their home but still wanted to talk. Their answers were so well formulated and convincing that it almost undid the two and a half decades of fear mongering you’d been fed. Almost. Twenty minutes later, you were still terrified and fearing for your life. You didn’t want to die yet, you still had recipes you wanted to make and what good were they if you couldn’t stomach food anymore? Would animals hate you if you were a vampire? You’d sooner die and have that be it than live out an existence where every dog and cat hated you.

You must have given a voice to those fears because you heard Baekhyun chuckle again as he moved back across the room towards you. “You shouldn’t be scared little one.” Xiumin sighed as he continued to stare at you. “We’ve been watching you and think that you’d make the perfect addition to our little family. I promise, we’ll let you enjoy your time with us before we turn you. You’re less likely to hate us after if we show you how good one of our kind can make you feel.”

“And who said we have to turn you tonight?” Baekhyun added. “Darling, we have so much planned. We can take our time, work out all of these niggling human concerns of yours.”

Xiumin held your face in his hands. “Tell me no after I kiss you and we’ll turn you now, but if you tell me yes then you’ll have a night that you won’t regret.” He attached his lips to yours. You felt the soft, plush lips against yours and strangely the fear you had started to dissipate. He didn’t force the kiss, seemingly waiting until you either pushed him away or made a move to show him you wanted to continue. Either way, you were going to die tonight. That much had been made clear. The choice had been made and there was no way you were going to be able to fend off two vampires and not die a horribly painful death. In the back of your mind your brain gave you two options, either die now or let them give you pleasure before dying. It even threw in the possibility that you were still dreaming and if you were dreaming then you’d obviously go for the option of sex with two hot vampires.

You settled on throwing caution to the wind, something you’d done a lot tonight, and responded to his movements allowing him to take your bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue swiping along it. He released your lip and kissed you again, this time deepening the kiss. He varied the pressure he applied, giving you soft kisses then deep hungry, breath stealing kisses. When you eventually broke the kiss you were panting as you tried to catch your breath. You meant to ask make a witty comment about how that was a bold move for a missionary but what came out of your mouth was more of a moan than words.

He trailed kisses from your mouth down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your flesh. “You taste like fucking candy.” He groaned into your shoulder as he momentarily stopped himself.

His voice was a low rasp and you thought he’d said something but you were too caught up in how his mouth felt against your skin and didn’t hear him. “Sorry what?”

“You heard me. Take it off.”

[amildartist]

Drabbles of a Witch and Their Weird Baby Creature | Chapter Three

Drown an Adam, Save a Life

You grabbed onto the wall and peered past the corner. Concentration made your eyes untypically wide. Adam was somewhere in your apartment; he snuck off as soon as you made the comment like he knew exactly what would happen. "Adam," you cooed, "Come on. Don't make this shit harder than it needs to be, you little bitch." You twisted around, your head tilting at a small creak behind you, and you grinned. Two large eyes glowed from under your couch. Your head tilted to the other side and you slowly strolled closer. If you made a dive for him now, you knew the goblin would bite you again. So slowly. You needed to stalk that little shit. 

"It's been a week, Adam. You stink more than you did when I found you in literal trash," you said, carefully sneaking across the room like the floor was full of landmines. Your couch quivered in response. 

A blur of brown, white, and yellow streaked past you. The tell-tale squeak of your loose kitchen cabinet told you exactly where he ran. A different squeak—boarding on chattering—followed it. "Oh, come on! I'm pretty sure you're actually growing mold at this point! Let's just get this over with." Another series of high-pitched chattering answered you and, from a week with the creature, you could safely guess he was chanting curses at you.

Your eyebrow twitched and you had to force yourself not to rush the process. Even when everything inside of you wanted to just fill the kitchen sink and scrub him like dirty laundry. Honey, you reminded yourself, just have to use honey. "I got you one of those baby bath seats."

Adam glared at you from between a slight crack before shoving a small hand out and flipping you off. Just as quickly, it was back inside in the safety of the darkness. Your eyes narrowed.

"I spent a lot of money to get it."

He blew a raspberry and another quick middle finger.

"Now you're just being rude," you muttered and crossed your arms. Your hip popped to one side, your head in the other, as you tried to think of a way to get Adam into the bathtub. You were not lying when you thought he was growing mold; he stank like something rotten. It was...disgusting. Horrible. It made your nose burn when you were around him too much, the smell far too similar to an unwashed jockstrap or a sock that had never seen the inside of a washer. You couldn't stop the gag as the scent wafted in your direction. 

Think, think, think. You chanted internally. Maybe some manifestation would help. As you began the simple, one-word mantra, you allowed the energy collecting in your apartment and from the street to gather. You were desperate enough to use the untapped energy—invisible, swirling—but not desperate enough to tap into anything gathering in your neighbors' apartments like a thief. It caressed your skin with your careful prompting and your mind slowly cleared from all distractions. Through the self-imposed daze, you vaguely heard the cabinet door crack open on its rusty hinges. You ignored it and let yourself fade deeper, your eyes slipping closed as you focused. 

You needed an answer. You needed to get Adam to bathe. 

Something was worming its way through the open door inside. You let it through, a faint emotion of surprise fluttering in your chest. It was an unexpected visitor. A guide that rarely interacted with you. They coaxed themself around your mind, pulling at your thoughts like strings. Haltingly, they turned you in a possible right direction, plucking at your brain for those already formed thoughts: use Adam's pride against him. You send your thanks through the dwindling link. An amused feeling of welcome replied before they swiftly left you alone.

The sudden, sharp intake of breath was a mistake. Adam, as you had thought, had opened the cabinet door to stare at you. With it came the smell. Strong and potent without the—admittedly—flimsy wood as a barrier. You choke on air, sputtering and flailing like a fish out of water, collapsing against a countertop hard enough for the sharp edge to stab into your side. "Motherfucker!" you wheezed. With strength you certainly hadn't felt at the moment, you turned to look over your shoulder. Adam's face was blank except for the twitching of a thick brow. Then he was chattering at a high speed, sharp teeth bared and nose furrowed like a rabbit's. Small arms waved wildly around him in a half-circle.

It was time.

Adam cut himself off with a shrill squeak, eyes narrowing.

Your mouth pulled into an unsightly grin, his body tensed, and you slowly turned back around. "You know," you began, "It's not really shining you in the right light." At his furrowed lip, you continued with the flush of pure unadulterated spite fueling you, "I mean, just imagine! First Man Adam, the forefather of all dicks everywhere, being able to clear entire rooms...no...clearing buildings just because of his rank, disgusting, foul body odor." You paused for dramatic effect, your eyes shining with maliciousness. "Why, one might even call it a demonic ability." You fell into a half-crouch, elbows bent and hands spread on either side of your face with wild eyes and an unhinged grin. Even without a mirror, you knew you likely looked highly unstable. But you couldn't find it in yourself to give a shit; Adam + Bath = No stinky smells was far too important an equation that you desired to solve.

Check. Bingo. You had won the battle.

His mouth fell open and his squinted eyes flung open. He ran himself to your bathroom. You followed with a cackle worthy of the witch you were.

So...you might have celebrated too early.

Once in the bath, the little Adam creature wasn't willing to let you have the win so easily. He splashed, slashed the child bath seat's plastic covering to hell (you silently mourned the cute ducklings and the loss of your money), and shook his junk in your face while maintaining direct eye contact. At one point, he had managed to get behind you while you tried to unclog your bathtub—he had shredded a bar of soap and jammed it into your drain—and he had headbutted the back of your knee hard. You fell head-first into the dirty water.

All in all, you left that bathroom completely traumatized. After you showered, of course, washing yourself no less than three times and slathering your tub in bleach.

Now, Adam was peacefully cleaning his ears with a soft baby ear cleaner—the only baby item you had bought that he hadn't destroyed immediately—a large, fluffy pink towel drowning his body with a powder blue hand towel wrapped in his now correct colored hair. You hadn't noticed until the water in the tub had turned brown how dirty his hair had been. He sat on the couch on a pillow, preening. You had changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a graphic T-shirt, your towel hanging limply around your neck while you stared unseeingly at the Disney Plus home screen; you mindlessly selected The Little Mermaid, your remote falling out of your hands to land on the floor. You glanced at it before deciding it was too much effort to bend down and pick it back up. Its new home was your floor for the unforeseeable future.

That was terrible. It was horrible. But your apartment was no longer being assaulted so it was a necessary evil. You told yourself it was necessary repeatedly. If you told yourself that enough times, you would start to believe it. Fuck, you felt like you had lost your very soul. Maybe it went down the drain side-by-side with your disfigured soap? They had both been mutilated, after all. Just as you were relaxing into a half-doze in your armchair your cell phone rang. Startled, you jumped straight up in your chair and fumbled through your sweatpants' pockets. 

You answered without looking. "Hello?"

"Oh, wow, my baby actually answered my call? What's goin' on? You're not dyin' on me are ya, sweet pea?" 

And this wasn't a conversation you should be having with Adam in the room. You snuck a glance at him and did a doubletake. He was watching the movie with uncharacteristic enrapturement, his face slack and for once not mournful, angry, or smug. The creature actually almost looked adorable. Almost. On light, practiced feet, you snuck around the back of the couch and into your kitchen area. You kept him firmly in the range of your sight and whispered, "Hey, mama. What did you find out?"

There was a scoff on the other end. "Being used by my very own child! And they're not even gonna ask me how I'm doin'. Which I'm doin' just fine by the way, thank you askin'. You know you could stand to be just a bit more respectful to your mama. After all, I'm not always gonna be here for ya and that can be so frightenin'. Why, I remember when I lost my—" 

You pulled your cell phone away from your ear, looked up at your ceiling, and groaned. "Ma," you interrupted her tangent that you knew from experience would quickly have you both off-topic, "How are you doing?"

"Eh, could be better honestly. Work hasn't been doin' well and I think your pa might have prostate cancer or somethin' 'cause that man's bladder has been actin' up somethin' awful. And, of course, he's as stubborn as a fuckin' mule and he won't go to the doctor." 

"Well, yeah, he can be as stubborn as a fuc—"

"Watch your language! Honestly, did I raise ya in a barn?" 

Your eye twitched and you reached out to your guides for aid in keeping patience in this trying time. Two of them wrapped you with positive energy, another—the one who helped you earlier with figuring out how to get Adam in the bath—was amused and you felt they were content in watching you struggle; the two actually helpful guides felt disgruntled and disapproving.

"Anyhow, how have you been sugarplum?"

"Besides the First Man and apparently the first 'mortal' angel crashing at my apartment? Pretty good. I just got a raise." And a well-fucking-deserved raise it was. You worked your whole ass off for it, sucked up to your managers with coffee and muffin bribes, and worked overtime for two weeks straight.

Your mother squealed, her end of the call suddenly muffling with rapid movements that you assume were her doing one of the dances she saved for when you accomplished something. "You get ya money, honey! Drain those corporate fuckers dry!" There was a brief moment while she caught her breath. "Alright, so I did find somethin' out about why that man is there instead of Heaven. My guides have been helpin' somethin' great and it's big news, baby, very big news."

"What news?" you asked hesitantly, stealing a glance at Adam. He was still invested in The Little Mermaid and he was now lying down on his stomach, chewing mindlessly at his thumb as Ariel's father destroyed her human trinkets. If you didn't know any better, you could have sworn you saw tears gathering in those large eyes of his as they flickered across the screen in an attempt to capture everything he could. Your brow furrowed briefly. 

"Hon," your mother started, exhaling sharply and making your speaker crackle, "Adam died. I mean, died died. I don't know the full story since I'm still among the living and the afterlife is kept on a tight leash from us, but somethin' happened and he died for good."

Turning slightly to the side, you cupped your mouth around your cell phone. "What? What the hell does that mean, ma? He's right here. Obviously, he didn't 'die for good.'"

"Yeah, that's somethin' I was able to get a clear answer on. Buckle up, buttercup, because this is some shit, I swear." There was a muffled shuffle and then a distant 'don't touch the cookies.' "Sorry, your pa is actin' up and tryin' to snack. Yes, I'm fuckin' telling on ya! You actually listen to our kiddo! Why wouldn't I use that against ya? Anywho, pineapple, Adam messed up at some point. He wasn't supposed to return to Earth in any fashion or Heaven for that matter."

Your stomach rolled and tightened. "What does that mean? What are you saying?"

She hesitated. Your mother never hesitated much to your own childhood and adulthood embarrassment.

"He's supposed to be Hell." 

FIRST | BACK | NEXT (not released yet)

[amildartist]

Drabbles of a Witch and Their Weird Baby Creature | Chapter Two

The Name Game

It was staring at you again. The small creature you found three days ago—the one you had to spell asleep to make it stop biting you—was calmer today. However, it appeared to pick up a new tactic to piss you off. Staring. Glaring. Glowering in your general direction if you so much as breathed. It...He had a smug smile on his face whenever you looked at him. The few times you'd been able to catch him not committing psychological warfare against your person, he was muted like the first time you found him. It was a lost look. Subtle, thinking; you could practically see the wheels turning in his small head. There was a hint of melancholy in those moments, but then his face would snap in your direction and, like a switch, he would put on that same insufferable front. That wasn't the only problem.

You still had no idea who or what the fuck he was.

Looking down at your compact notepad, you dug your pencil through another creature possibility. He was not a redcap. At least, you didn't think he was a redcap. He did spend the second day trying to break your kneecaps with his head which was, surprisingly, as hard as a hammer. Your eyebrow twitched remembering that. It was mortifying trying to explain why you went to work with bruised knees. From your coworker's snicker, you were pretty sure they didn't buy the 'I got a new cat and they're excitable' excuse. They certainly didn't buy it when you stopped going to work in shorts. 

It also wasn't particularly fun having to run around your couch while a small creature chased you like a man possessed. Despite that small, chubby body and short limbs, he was oddly spry.

He wasn't looking at you anymore. You blinked, slowly moving your pencil away from your body. His eyes followed it. "Of course! You can run so you should be able to write." Your insight was answered by a scoff and exaggerated rolling eyes. "Shut up, goblin," you cheerfully said, springing out of your seat and standing in front of him. "Come on," you wiggle the pencil and notepad like they were a pack of catnip, "bask in my genius and do the write thing." You smile at your own pun; he blankly stared at the writing utensils. You proceeded to fan the notepad in his face. "You know I could just keep guessing on what you are but-" 

The notepad was torn away from your hand. Not even the sharp sting of the papercuts diminished your shit-eating grin. He reached for the pencil with demanding fingers and roughly tore it away from you as well. You went back to your armchair while he quickly scribbled on the paper, his tongue sticking out in concentration. A few minutes of nothing but the soft scratch of the creature at work. Finally, he leaned back, patted the paper, and crossed his arms. You jumped up and quickly grabbed it. Finally! You would get answers and then you could get rid...

It just said bitch over and over and over.

You glared at him. He glared at you, his mouth twisting into a cattish smile. 

"You're the bitch," you muttered under your breath. Louder, you said, "Redcap! Bluecap! Goblin! Hobgoblin! Uni-"

It had the desired impact you wanted. He quickly grabbed the notepad back and set back to work. This time, however, you stayed hovering over him, your eyes promising to continue with the list of magical creatures. You only discovered how much he hated your list today, but you were doing good work with the information. He particularly hated your unicorn guess. He started foaming at the mouth with your demon guess and then chewed through your nice couch pillows. They lay empty and fluff-less on your floor, mere shells of their comfortable plushness.

You leaned further over him, your shadow dwarfing his diminutive body. His yellow eyes peered up at you for a second before he swiftly twisted himself back into the room's lights and waved his hand at you in a shooing motion. Not going to happen, goblin. Under your oppressive presence, he finished writing.

The first thing you see—that wasn't another tango line of 'bitch' and a crude drawing of yourself—was Adam. Off to the side was a lopsided drawing of a figure with horns, a mask, and a halo. "Your name is Adam then?" He nodded with a puffed-out chest. Tapping rapidly with his pencil, he drew a dark arrow to the drawing. "Ah, so that's you." He grinned widely in response and you couldn't help but grimace. "It's, uh, nice." It looked like it was melting. Before you can ask what he was, he tapped at a lower part of the paper at a series of words you hadn't noticed.

You froze.

Angel. First Man. Dickmaster. I fucking rock.

"What the fuck?"

He was an angel? Adam? The Adam from the Bible? You took in a deep calming breath. "Okay," you started, pointing your index finger in his face, "I'm not calling you Dickmaster." The narrowing yellow eyes were your only warning before he bit.

BACK | NEXT