Sleep wasn’t kind to me that night.
At first, I’d dreamt I was surrounded by giants. I couldn’t speak with them, and all they did was ignore me while looming high above.
After that, I’d dreamt of being burned alive. It was brief, but also the most vivid and horrible of the dreams.
The third time wasn’t nearly as bad. Simply put, I was surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Part of me kept expecting Nex to show up and start talking to me, that perhaps my earlier dream was real and I’d just gotten stuck in some sort of time loop. It wasn’t until the chirp! of birds started to sound that I roused and realized it was another dream.
That, or Nex was very good at bird calls. Which, while I didn’t doubt should the fancy strike her, I suspected that wasn't the case here.
My eyes opened to a far less oppressive darkness. I was back to wherever 'here' was, still an infant.
I’d realized from my neighbor crying in the middle of the night that should I do the same, Eleanor would likely arrive moments later to tend to whatever I needed. And while I greatly desired to be free of my blankety prison, being wrapped up securely was relaxing. I could delay moving about until sunrise. I doubted Eleanor slept well most nights, and I didn’t understand what arrangements were going on here, but it’d be rude to wake her for trivial reasons.
I continued to reflect and space out for a while, almost drifting back to sleep, but mostly thinking about what had happened. I was worried for my family and how they’d take my death, even with Nex’s assurances. Mostly, I wanted to cry. But that intense sadness had been replaced by a bitter numbness and guilt. I missed them, but was powerless to do anything about it, or anything for them.
They’d probably have me cremated.
After a while, that thought randomly struck my mind. With as burnt as my corpse doubtlessly was, the chance of an open casket funeral had to be zero. I hoped Rodriguez was indeed okay too. If our roles were reversed, I know I wouldn’t have taken it well.
Another part of me was upset at the situation in general. The number of firefighters that died during operations each year wasn’t high. I knew it was still a risk, but it seemed like a good way to help people. Maybe I should’ve just been a nurse or doctor. I’d wanted to do that at one point, but never pursued it for one reason or another. More regrets and excuses.
While I was brooding, dawn’s rays trickled through the windows and started to illuminate the room. It wasn’t long before Neighbor’s cries brought Eleanor in. After she tended to Neighbor, she unwrapped and checked on me a bit before exiting the room and coming back soon after. I spent that time exercising what little I could.
Siobhan soon arrived to brighten up my day, feeding and playing with us both. I’d been feeling a bit depressed, so having some mental stimulation and distraction was fun. It’s surprising how quickly people can adapt to weird situations when forced to.
Being a baby was simple. Relaxing, I guess most would say. Yet that abundance of free time kept forcing me to process my feelings instead of burying them under mundane activities. Sure, it was probably healthier to confront my thoughts, but that didn’t mean I needed to be happy about doing it! I just wanted to binge a TV show or read something and turn my brain off for a while.
Apparently my moping was noticed, as Siobhan seemed concerned when feeding me. Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t really drank much and had been more or less sitting there with her nipple in my mouth, motionless, for the past 30 seconds. For whatever reason, I didn’t feel hungry.
She picked me up and looked me over a bit more. I wasn’t really sure what to do. No one likes a depressed baby, so I hit her with a patented mlem! as if to say I was fine. She soon covered her chest and I found myself being held a bit later.
The gentle caress only made me feel worse. I still appreciated it, but I was a paradoxical creature and kindness sometimes had the opposite of its likely intended effect.
While I was brooding into Siobhan’s chest about the meaning of life, the universe, and everything, a knock! on the door prompted conversation. Old Man entered shortly after and the three began to talk.
I’m not sure what exactly was going on, but I tried paying attention the best I could. I caught a word here and there, but not enough to follow the conversation. What I did understand, however, was when Old Man approached me and patted me on the head. He then spoke with Siobhan a bit more before abruptly putting his finger in my mouth again.
That delicious swirl of cooling refreshment hit my tongue, throat, then body in seconds. That taste and feeling was downright magical—possibly literally? My eyes shut and rolled back slightly while I let out a tiny noise of happiness. And then it was over.
My mind struggled to catch up. While it hadn’t been as intense as the first time, whatever Old Man was doing? I wanted more.
Oddly, I felt full. Not that I’d been hungry before thanks to Siobhan, but it was as if an emptiness inside of me that I was unaware of had filled up. That part confused me. I hadn’t even been able to drink more before, so how could I have felt empty?
I wanted to frown, but was too busy wiping a dumb little grin off my face.
It was at that point Eleanor spoke up. She sounded a bit tense and had a frown on her face. Siobhan actually looked a bit worried too. I wasn’t sure what the problem was, but Old Man seemed to defuse the situation.
Curious and equally worried, I had to move on. It wasn’t like I could infer much from the situation without a healthy dose of assumptions, which I was trying not to do. Kind of like my red skin. While I was mostly convinced I was a demon or monster baby, it could’ve been other things. Maybe.
Alright, I was almost assuredly a demon or equivalent. But even so, I wasn’t exactly sure how bad any of those options were societally, so I just had to push the matter aside for now.
Still, I wanted to at least pay Old Man, Siobhan, and Eleanor back somehow. I couldn’t understate how much I appreciated them taking care of me. Infinitely better than waking up in the woods and getting eaten by a bear or wolf or something. Ten outta ten, would recommend.
While I was trying to figure out a way to prompt Siobhan into teaching me Old Man’s name, their conversation continued and Old Man left minutes later. For whatever reason, I was bundled up and brought outside the room and into the main chapel part of the church. I looked over the wooden benches where many nuns and priests were already sitting.
As we approached the room, I tensed up and thought back to that first night and the horrid burning sensation. Thankfully, Siobhan seemed to be keeping an eye on me and kept to the rear of the room. I appreciated her preventing me from bursting into flames or ashes or whatever—the initial time was painful enough.
Gazing out across the room, I took in the scenery. It was a magnificent cathedral, the quality at least above the church I’d gone to when I was a child. Perhaps not at grand as some of the churches or cathedrals in the world, but impressive nonetheless.
Fancy artwork lined several walls; the ceiling was high and spacious; the supporting stone pillars exquisitely crafted; several stained glass windows lined the back of the church, depicting some winged men or angels; a beautiful stone statue at the front of a man in robes holding a book; what I assumed was a choir section; ornate, tall candelabra for lighting; several other fine details.
Even if I wanted to deny it for some reason, the whole view screamed, “This is a place of worship!”
It was funny. I hadn’t been particularly religious before. A lot of the community left me disillusioned and I had doubted God existed as they proclaimed. What had essentially been a confirmation from Nex that none of Earth’s religions were correct, yet a ‘Creator’ did indeed exist made me almost want to laugh. I suppose if I were being cynical, I could play Devil’s advocate and argue that perhaps Nex was lying to me in an elaborate attempt to … doom my soul, or something?
Meh. Seems unlikely. And if that were the case, I hope the ‘real God’ could forgive me. Getting slapped in the face with so much contrary evidence makes matters of blind faith a bit muddy. *I* certainly don't know what the hell is going on in all the cosmos.
Anyway, a few of the nuns came up to chat with Siobhan. Two even played with me a bit, but most kept a respectable distance and were simply curious or just making polite chat. The service soon began, with Old Man standing at the front. Since I couldn’t understand much, it was fairly boring in an “I’m still invested” sort of way. I stared at the back of people’s heads with morbid fascination. ‘Twas riveting.
There wasn’t much of note besides Old Man apparently referencing me, as most of the people turned back at us to look. More words, and a majority again nodded before directing their attention up front. There was another part where they sang hymns. Old Man had a nice singing voice, though his normal tone was just as relaxing. Very radio DJ-y, deep, comforting.
The procession continued on about as I expected. I felt bad for Siobhan having to stand and was debating crying just so she could excuse herself, though I wasn’t sure if it’d work or if her presence was required. While I was distracted with that thought, the service was concluding and everyone in the church repeated something after Old Man at the same exact time. Their mutual echo rang off the walls, vibrating into my ears.
Then, I felt like I got electrocuted. Something was watching me. My tiny heart began to beat faster, a state of panic hitting me like a swift knee in the gut.
—And then it was gone. Before I could do more than freeze up, before I could look around wildly or thrash around in Siobhan’s arms, that needling sensation vanished.
What the hell was that!?
My discomfort was apparently noticed, because Siobhan looked down at me confused and began whispering to and fussing with me a bit. Yet my stomach was still doing butterflies. That sensation had reminded me of whenever Nex had her attention on me; though with a different, all-consuming flavor of crushing insignificance. And I wasn’t sure how to take that.
Well, disregarding the fact I might have snagged a fraction of a God’s attention for the briefest of moments, the service was over! Definitely not freaking out right now. I really hoped that Nex’s relationship with other Gods or Goddesses was as good as she implied, and that she hadn’t dropped me somewhere to piss off one of her neighbors.
Whew. Deep breaths.
Thankfully, Siobhan and I returned back to our room without further crisis. The rest of the evening was uneventful, which was a very welcome thing. Mostly I did baby things and played or learned with Siobhan, but some exercise was also in order.
During that whole time, I tried not to think too deeply on whatever that soul-constricting feeling was. I didn’t have the proper words for it. Before Nex, I’d never felt like someone was picking me apart and looking at every single infinitesimally small piece, before slapping them back together that very same instant. And then it had happened again, and I wasn't even dead this time.
To put it simply, I was deeply unsettled. And I felt far, far smaller than I was currently.
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That afternoon, Siobhan—Nex bless her heart—helped remedy my mortal terror by applying some more boob to the face, of which I appreciated very much. Nothing beats the fear of getting flicked out of existence like being cradled by a giant woman. Though it certainly raises different concerns.
Later in the evening, Siobhan and Eleanor apparently got the idea to introduce me to Neighbor. After some verbal prodding, I picked up that Neighbor’s name was actually Dinah. She was a cute, little wrinkly baby with blue eyes. She also proceeded to cry after looking at me too long, which while understandable, left me feeling exasperated. I tried not to show it at least.
The school-aged children returned for an afternoon class that had lasted about an hour. Siobhan picked me up and talked to them while holding me at her side. The children continued to appear curious but apprehensive. Not like I could do much, so I just made some noises at them periodically and mostly listened.
The evening soon slipped by into night and sleep took me again. More haunting and bizarre dreams followed, yet I awoke the next day all the same. Still a small, red baby.
While listening to the morning chirping of birds, I continued to ponder my current existence. I was pretty sure I had little bumps on my head, coupled with the red skin, made me very much think of one thing. A demon. I was a helpless little demon baby in the middle of a church. As far as irony went, weren’t you laying it on a bit thick, Nex?
I sighed. A tiny, wet noise from a too-small throat.
Nothing much of note happened that day, or even the day following. Other than some minor improvements in my mental vocabulary and motor skills, it was thankfully uneventful. Honestly, the fact I’d made any physical progress in so short a period should’ve been cause for concern. Normal babies would still be cute little potatoes for months more, I thought? Being able to actually use my hands to a fraction of a degree was yet another thing that was irregular about the current me.
It was a complicated feeling. I was thankful, yet it stung a bit.
The most entertaining part of my day became Siobhan’s lessons. It was nice spending time propped beside her or held in front. I could pronounce her name just a bit better, though it was still mostly unintelligible.
She seemed pleased by my efforts regardless, which only spurred me to try harder. I wanted to be able to communicate, consequences be damned! I was already a freaky demon baby, who really cared at this point if I developed faster than normal babies? What was I gonna do, stand out more?
Old Man came to visit a day after that, at which point I got to show off my linguistic prowess by calling Siobhan, “Shhb’n.” Old Man’s face seemed to light up, and after a bit longer I was taught with actual certainty that his name was Elias.
My mouth, lacking in dexterity and teeth as it was, was only able to produce something vaguely like “Ewss.” It was whistling and throaty, all wrong. But that still rewarded me with a head pat all the same.
It was stupid, but that little bit of progress and communication made me happy too. They seemed to praise me, because I picked up the word “good” and what I thought was “smart”. It just made me embarrassed. Being praised for what I considered should’ve been a simple task—one that I’d failed at if I’m being honest—made me feel disingenuous. If they only knew, they’d think I was more of a freak that they currently do. And definitely toss me out a window.
The thought really dampened my mood, but I tried to shake the feeling off and enjoy the company. There were only so many hours in a day I got to spend ‘conversing’ with someone. Or even just listening to speech.
During that evening, I’d spent it laid up against Siobhan’s side. While I dozed off, she was reading from a thick book that I’d seen her and Eleanor paging through often. My brief nap was interrupted by baby Dinah crying, apparently hungry. It was with a small bit of frustration that I grumpily woke up and was handed off to Eleanor while Siobhan fed Dinah. Then I became embarrassed at being mad at a newborn. Dinah needed Siobhan far more than me, it wasn't her fault she was hungry.
Eleanor was still nice, especially all things considered, but I could tell her heart just wasn’t in entertaining or caring for me. Not that it especially seemed like the case for Dinah, but there seemed like at least a tiny bit of warmth there. What's more, I got a subtle feeling of rejection whenever she’d pick up Dinah first and leave me to Siobhan.
Or perhaps I’d just spent the past few days imagining and overcomplicating it.
Afterwards, Siobhan spent some time feeding me, then while Eleanor changed Dinah, checked my makeshift diaper. Surprise! Still nothing there.
I was as perplexed as she, but continued to feel fine otherwise. Not much I could do about it other than be the abnormal little scamp that I was. Probably better than having to change my diaper all the time. If I had to suffer a woman who I considered about my age constantly having to clean up my literal shit, part of me would have completely and utterly died inside. It was bad enough they got to see me naked, but I was at least protected mentally by a feeling of disconnect.
The rest of the evening was peaceful, though my dreams brought more of the same. This time was a dream within a dream. For a while, I was convinced that nothing had ever happened and I was going about my day just fine. Then I stepped through my garage door and fell into that darker than black space.
Nex never appeared. Just nothingness. And at some point, I realized that too, wasn't real.
Tallying what I thought were the days up, it seemed I'd survived my first week. Congratulations should’ve been in order. I was physically well, probably mentally sound (all things considered!), and nothing else bad had happened since my untimely demise. Yet I was apprehensive all the same. Part of me feared the other shoe dropping with a vengeance. Whenever things go too well, it always seems like that has to come to an abrupt end eventually. Or perhaps I was being pessimistic.
Pushing aside my growing unease, I continued to soak up whatever Siobhan threw my way. While I’d expected it later rather than sooner, my gums felt just the tiniest bit sore. Almost itchy. The thought of teething was a mix of complicated emotions—mostly good, but still.
Another day was spent doing various activities, with Siobhan spending some more time propping me up and talking with me. The embarrassing noises I would make while trying to work on proper speech grated on my nerves, but were necessary all the same. At least she seemed to not grow bored of my company, though time would tell.
She was probably being put up to this anyway. That thought nagged in the back of my head, so I tried to shake it off.
Still, her helping me through such a stressful and important time made me immensely grateful. I continued to cling to Siobhan like a sailor to a shipwreck. And should the opportunity present itself in the future, I would continue to try to pay her, Elias, and even Eleanor back. Absolutely. Just ... after I could walk. Hopefully, things could wait until then.
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Sister Siobhan’s emotions had been a whirlwind of late.
When Father Elias had told her just a week ago of what had happened and asked her to care for a demon’s child, she’d initially wondered if it was a metaphor for a grievous’ sinner’s baby that they’d abandoned due to financial ruin or some other wild metaphorical situation.
Him being literal hadn’t crossed her mind even when he’d grimly assured her he was serious. She thought it was in jest, perhaps wordplay still, and was waiting for the man to change tones.
Yet when that little bundle of red had presented itself before her, and when those striking golden eyes had gazed upon her, the reality of the situation finally set in.
The first day she was still in shock and disbelief. Even despite the baby being rather adorable in its own way, every fiber of her existence told her that a demon’s child was still a demon. Siobhan initially wanted to cry at the thought of caring for one, let alone breastfeeding it, too!
Even after seeing the reassurance that Diadora didn’t have tiny, flesh-rending teeth in her little mouth, Siobhan’s hand still found its way to her chest in phantom, imagined pain. But she had to push on regardless, for who else here could provide? They couldn’t even ask another wet nurse in town, lest the news spread.
Alas, the child was as cute and non-threatening as any other baby. Possibly moreso! It was absurd.
Siobhan’s brain couldn’t draw the line between the horrific, soul-eating, violently murdering, cunningly calculating tricksters that men and old wives alike would whisper or cry about. If she were being blunt, Diadora behaved almost suspiciously well. Taking care of her was a breeze compared to little Dinah! It was laughable.
Diadora, judging by her tiny size, couldn’t have been more than a few months old. Though that apparently didn’t mean much, given her behavior. And comparing a demon child’s growth to a human’s seemed silly. Perhaps they grew at different speeds? And considering her size, mentally, Diadora certainly seemed to be growing at an accelerated rate. Siobhan had been consulting and reporting frequently to Father Elias, but even he knew little about rearing such a peculiar and precocious child.
That was expected. Not even Father Elias had all the answers. Frankly, the amount of humans who knew anything about demonic children likely numbered a handful at best, and that was assuming someone was insane or academic enough to ask a Lust demon about such a bizarre subject. That also assumed the demon would give a straight answer.
For the average layman, most demons were thought to simply spawn in the Infernal Sphere—of age, ready to eat, ready to kill, and ready for war. Their exact, specific origins weren’t something normal people heavily considered.
Simply put, humans only needed to know that demons were evil, and if one broke into the Mortal Sphere or you were insane enough to attempt summoning one without the Crown’s authorization—which basically never happened, at least that she’d heard of—you’d be put to death or simply dead. Outside of large cities, the majority of people never even encountered a demon their whole life, so why concern yourself too deeply? There were more immediate concerns, like securing food or funds for the Winter frost.
Siobhan let out a soft sigh, eyes trailing away from the Scripture she’d been failing to read, down to the little problem tucked peacefully against her side. Siobhan couldn’t help but smile a bit at the child’s content dozing.
What had really drawn Siobhan to the poor thing was how Diadora cried the first day and the simple fact she’d been abandoned at their doorstep. If Diadora was as smart as she seemed, Siobhan suspected on some level the she knew she’d been abandoned. That resonated within Siobhan’s own heart. And perhaps the crying triggered some silly, motherly instinct despite it all.
Little Diadora was much less expressive than Dinah, yet seeing a newborn at times show such deep sadness worried Siobhan. That level of awareness and grief in a baby wasn’t normal. Still, Diadora would sometimes coo! and laugh and be happy all the same. Watching an infant that couldn’t even hold herself up properly try to pronounce Siobhan’s own name? It tickled Siobhan’s heartstrings, despite her abundant worries and fears. It was almost enough to ignore the stubby little horns, glowing eyes, and crimson skin.
But, fear she did. A growing part of Siobhan thought that perhaps she’d been bewitched. She knew not what powers a newborn demon might have, despite the tender age. There was the faintest whisper of Elias acting strangely, and it was no secret many were concerned for him. While Siobhan knew the circumstances more than most, save perhaps Prioress Anita, Siobhan was anxious all the same. Doubly so after the other day.
While discussing Diadora’s decline in feeding, Elias had said something absurd. He’d decided to feed the child a part of his own soul! Again!
Eleanor was vehemently against Elias feeding the child the tiniest sliver, even despite his reassurances. And for damn good reason—it was too much like the Lust demon brothels and the payment they demanded! Gold or a small portion of your soul, they required. It was an unholy den of sin, an affront to the gift of life from Lord Benevitas himself!
It was well known the soul would repair minor damage with time, just as any nick or cut. But those who frequented the brothels often become addled addicts, despite the limitations. It was like repeatedly skinning your finger before it could fully heal, only to realize at some point you’d lost the whole hand. The whole practice was reprehensible and infuriated Siobhan. She knew not how the city lords legalized and attempted to profit off such a vile arrangement, those greed-filled bastards.
During her younger years, Siobhan had seen more than a few men succumb to the harlot demons’ temptations. Her blood boiled just thinking about it!
Which was why she was so concerned for Elias. Even if it was only a fraction of what a Lust demon might take as payment, the action itself was blasphemous. Siobhan didn’t want to get Elias in trouble, but she was distraught and had no one higher to express that worry to. She prayed to Benevitas every night regarding the matter.
Elias had rationalized it. He told her that much like humans being unable to live off bread and water alone, a demon needed to consume mana frequently or souls periodically. Food would never suffice, so he planned to be the only one to bear this burden as the child was ultimately his responsibility.
Siobhan wanted to attempt feeding the child regularly, and no more. He’d given her a sad smile and shook his head, clearly pained at some truth he already knew. She could only begrudingly trust his years of knowledge.
Father Elias was a far more worldly person than almost anyone at the abbey. It was for that reason he led the abbey and provided spiritual and life counseling to both the members and town itself. Even if the Scripture said not to abandon children, the elderly, or the needy … Siobhan feared Elias was stepping off the road too far in a misguided attempt to help.
Seeing someone she respected so much being put in such an awful situation worried her. And yet, did she not let the demon suckle off her own chest? Was thinking of a demon as ‘cute’ not a sinful thought? That attachment worried her every night. Even when little Diadora’s peaceful face pressed against her, or when her little hands grabbed hold of Siobhan’s own, or her little giggles and looks of happiness when spoken to or praised—
Benevitas, please give me strength and guidance. I desperately need your help on this matter, for even the Scripture cannot quell these questions.
Siobhan didn’t know what was proper anymore. She was in a morally gray dilemma. And while she feared a response to Elias’ letter, she also prayed that they would send someone to either confirm their actions were still acceptable, or liberate her from the situation so that she might seek repentance. Only, that would mean…
Siobhan’s chest tightened as she looked down at sleeping Diadora beside her, brushing Diadora’s soft, red skin. It was oddly warm, no matter the time of day. Even when Diadora wasn’t covered, she didn’t seem to get cold. Poor Dinah couldn’t be said to boast the same, as the abbey was a bit bitter these Spring mornings.
While most rooms had a small Warmth rune etched on them, not everyone in the abbey could inject their mana into them. Most had learned how to. Siobhan had even taught a few herself. The runes in the abbey were basic, as more complicated ones would be exorbitant in cost. They still paid for themselves both financially and compared to the physical burden of firewood.
Yet even in Siobhan’s robes, curled up with an oddly warm little baby atop her, amidst an otherwise heated room? She felt a chill run up her back.