The day started like any other normal day, or what one could consider normal for a haunted house. The poltergeist laid down to slumber as the dawn light found its way in through the cracks of the wooden planks nailed over each window. The residential ghosts browsed the dusty library for the thousandth time, in hopes of finding just one book they have overlooked. The house itself shifted, its floors creaking as it too settled into a light doze. Or at least that was the plan until a shrill cry startled the house. Its shutters shook in annoyance, as if trying to shush whoever was being rude enough to disrupt its nap. It was bad enough the neighborhood across the empty lot was filled with loud children playing as they waited for the bus. Their bored parents only bother to look up from their phones long enough to shush them before returning to their screens.

Still the ear piercing cry continued, something about this particular sound started to worry the house. Inside it shook the floorboards until the visiting demon stormed out of the guest room, down the many flights of stairs, before stomping towards the entryway.

“What is happening that you had to wake me?” The demon’s voice sounded like the deep echo of a foreboding cave. The house rattled its windows, what little glass it still had fell off the frame and broke into tiny pieces on the wooden floors below. The demon pinched the bridge of his sharp nose, his brimstone colored eyes shut tightly as he let out an aggravated sigh. 

“I’ll go check.” He grumbled, his voice echoed off the fading wallpaper covered walls. He reached a clawed hand into what was once the entryway closet, now just a dark hole in the wall. He pulled out a massive black umbrella, the kind that could protect at least five people from the downpour.

The house shook its walls impatiently, a crash rang out as it threw its front door open, the demon grimace against the growing sunlight. “Yes, I understand, but I am not a day demon.” the demon replied before stepping out the front porch. He opened the umbrella, making him look like a distinguished gentleman. If one ignored the wrinkles on his stove-pipe trousers and his white starch shirt. He had been asleep after all. The mysterious high pitched cry rang out once more, the demon leaned over the porch railing, taking care to stay underneath the large umbrella before stepping lightly down the chipped stone steps and towards the sound.

The old Victorian house stood on the edge of town, half forgotten by the local townsfolk; it had stood undisturbed for a couple of decades. Local legend said that the devil himself lived within those walls. Rather silly if you asked the demon, like the devil would live in a rundown house. Everyone knew he was fond of that newer modern style of architecture. The demon took care to look both ways before crossing the empty street that ran along the side of the house. The cry grew louder as he slowly approached the ditch on the opposite side of the street. A trash filled gutter came into view, rotting apple cores were strewn about, ripped bags of trash here and there, a rat ran out away from the sound of the approaching demon. In the middle of it lay a bundle of dirty blankets, he leaned down to investigate further. He carefully moved the top blanket with a claw to reveal the face of a screaming newborn. A human infant to be exact.

“Oh, hell’s bells.” The demon cursed.

Raising a child, let alone a newborn, wouldn’t be an easy task for the occupants of the Victorian house, but still they were determined to try their hardest. The first couple of days after the demon had brought home the infant had been a testing one for all included. The demon, though a visitor, found himself invested in the baby’s welfare. He had never been interested in humans, but something about this bright blue-eyed newborn, with her soft strawberry blonde curls resting on the crown of her head, hit an equally soft spot within his chest where a heart should be. He didn’t hesitate to call in a few favors from his demonkin. The Victorian house was soon filled with all sorts of infernal beings as they did their best to renovate the reluctant house. Windows were fixed, rats and raccoons chased out, spiders encouraged to find higher corners. The poltergeist was aggressively invited to stop throwing filth around the house at the threat of being escorted out. The guest room, where the demon had taken up a semi-permanent residence, was now also a nursery. 

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Lady Rashoon was a beautiful demon with scarlet red hair that trailed down her satin covered back, her golden skin glowed brightly despite the growing frown upon her gorgeous face. Her dark green eyes narrowed at the dusty bassinet before her.

“I don’t think this is the style now, my friend.” she tapped her chin thoughtfully, she snapped her fingers. A more modern looking bassinet now stood in its place, along with a baby monitor. 

“What is that?” The brimstone eyed demon picked up the baby monitor, eyeing it suspiciously as he turned it around in his hand.

“It’s a way to monitor the child if you leave the room. I saw a commercial for it on human television.” Lady Rashoon smiled at her companion’s growing confusion.

“Why can’t I just cast a spell to alert me if the infant stirs?” his voice echoed softly, the infant was fast asleep on his four poster bed. Pillows surrounded her in case she rolled off the bed. Did babies roll at this age? He would have to ask Lady Lilith, with her many children. Lilith would know. 

Lady Rashoon shrugged, “I just thought it would be fun to get with the theme.” She walked over to the bed, admiring the infant as she continued to sleep, “You will need a nanny, or a wet nurse at least.”

“I do not think wet nurses are common these days.” the demon floated next to her, they both stared down at the baby. He would need someone, a demon could not just stroll into the local human grocery store for substance. Especially one with dark red skin and a lion's tail. 

“How about a witch?” his friend’s voice sang softly.

“I do not have a witch indebted to me.” he shrugged. Witch involvement could complicate things, as they tend to steam roll their way in a situation. Better leave them be. Besides, what could a witch do that a demon couldn’t?

“The fae are fond of changelings, you could offer the child to them?” Lady Rashoon teased, her demon friend rolled his eyes at that.

“The fae will just see her as a toy to break. No, I’ve seen how they treat those they’re fond of. I do not want her to be damaged by their manipulations and abuse. It would be like giving a baby mouse to a cat.” His voice came out more as a growl, he was not particularly fond of the fae. 

Lady Rashoon raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, “And what do you see her as?”

He turned his brimstone eyes back to the sleeping infant, her nose was twitching in her sleep, a small smile formed on her face. “I see potential. Potential for her to be whatever she is meant to be.” A small crash erupted from the floor below them.

“Holy hell, they're going to wake the child up.” Lady Rashoon glared at the floor beneath their feet before turning to storm out the door and towards the noise. “At least name her!” she called from the hallway. A few minutes later he could hear her lecturing the imp workers below, the demon smiled at the commotion. He turned back to the infant, reaching out a clawed finger to gently move a curl away from her angelic face.