My arms feel stiff, locked in a position far too unnatural, but the momentum doesn’t stop. A sickening sound rings out as the rock makes contact with the wolf, like the cracking of glass and the smushing of something rotten. The beast crumbles, collapsing to the floor.

Delilah registers my appearance into the mess and retracts their claws a moment before they rip into me. They take a moment to survey the surroundings, for what, I don’t know.

It’s hard to breathe, like the wind was taken out of me. I huff and puff, the rock already fallen to the dirt. There’s blood everywhere and for a moment, I focus on nothing but the feeling of it on my skin. I’m going to be sick.

While my stomach swirls, Dela looks concerned.

“What?” The word is barely audible between the gasping, retching, and sore throat. I hold my throat, “Why is my throat sore?”

“Yelling.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Why do I feel like our positions reversed right there? “When did I yell?”

“Attacked.”

“I totally gave myself away then, that wasn’t the smartest move.”

“Shh.”

“Why?”

“Hellhound,” Dela points to the wolf now oozing brain matter, a legs still twitching. I should make sure it’s dead. Then they point to the trees, “Tamer.”

“Tamer?”

“Yes.”

Oh my god Dela, give me more information than that, I want to retort, but instead I suck in a breath and review the millions of things in my mind. Tamer, /ˈteɪmər/, noun, a person who trains wild animals, one who tames or subdues, often used in compounds as in ‘a lion-tamer’.

I should take a moment in the future to just sort through stuff, Delilah isn’t exactly the best conversation partner but they know more specifics than me about this environment. Wait! Before that! What about the tamer?

“Are they coming?”

“Maybe.”

I wonder what they’ll look like, maybe they’ll be an imp like us, but maybe they’re bigger? The wolf, or should I say hellhound, was a lot bigger than us, I doubt someone of our size tamed it.

“Will we fight?”

“Maybe.”

My dear child Dela, more information. Please. “Why maybe?”

“Species.”

I blink, “Are there more species than us here?”

“Yes.” Delilah is scanning the horizon, ears swivelling to catch any lick of sound. “Demons,” they point between us, gesturing that we’re demons as if I didn’t already know that. Though, in Dela’s defence, I seem to be lacking the basic knowledge of this world. I really will have to sort through what belongs where later.

I point to the hellhound, “Is that a demon too?”

“Yes.”

“So what else is here?”

“Humans.”

Humans? You mean the most abundant species in the universe, thriving on a thousand planets and existing on countless more? What else do I know about them? As I begin to look through my memories, something breaks through the underbrush a distance away, but from the sound of it, they’re running.

“Hide.” Dela doesn’t waste anytime, but this time we aren’t diving into the bushes. They push me up a tree, “Climb.”

“What? O-okay.” I stammer and start to climb, using my claws as nails to drag my way up.

Delilah runs to the closest tree and starts to do the same, but they are much faster than me. Before I know it, I’m a fifth of the way to the lowest branch and Delilah is already arranging the branches to hide themselves.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Okay, how did you do that so quickly? I struggle up the tree, but when the something breaks into the clearing, I haven’t gotten much farther.

There’s a long moment where I stare into two eyes and they stare back into mine. It startles at the sight of me, it looks like a man. He wears garments that I don’t recognize at first, a long black shirt with a purple collar and stole. Stole, like a sash worn around the neck, right? But nothing comes but words like abstract and extort. I don’t understand. Oh, I guess this is what they call “escaping reality”.

The human has been snarling since my escape attempt, he yelled something that felt like an order, but I could only blink back at him, wondering if it was me he was yelling at. When he turns to the wolf- hellhound- on the ground and glares, there is no hint of remorse for the beast lying dead, only anger.

“Damn dog.” The words he speaks now register.

“Sorry…” I apologize out of reflex.

His head whips to me, his eyes flashing with anger, “What did you just say?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“How dare you speak in the human tongue, a demon is a blasphemous existence, you do not deserve to speak in god’s language.” He spits at the end of his sentence, as if that drives the point home more.

Well then, my bad my dude. Wait, that doesn’t seem like that’s said here.

“Dirty demons, tricking humans into thinking you’ve a shred of humanity.” He pulls out a bottle from his waist, a belt with many doodads attached. With a quick motion he throws the bottle at me, words spilling from his mouth that seemed more lyrical than a spell, but I recognized it instantly, an aria. A holy spell.

The bottle hits me, the glass breaking against the hard exterior of my skin. The liquid on the other hand burns through my skin, I hiss, my claws separating from the tree. I roll on the ground, trying to get the leaves and bushes rub the liquid away. Holy water. Should’ve known. Well, I guess I did in some fashion or another.

“-Lord have no mercy against the wicked who does no good upon your flock.” He ends his chant with words that really don’t seem to be all that inviting. The spell fires, a short beacon of white light flying right over my head and hitting the tree. The tree has no external damage, but within seconds, the tree starts to wither.

What kind of mockery is this? Magic? I did not sign up for this.

“So you dodged, wretched snake.”

“No, I fell, you, on the other hand, apparently have no aim.”

His eyebrow twitches, a cramped look takes over his face his face, “I see your knowledge of the human language is quite extensive.”

I think for a moment, still now that the water has been wiped away, “I guess you could say it’s my native lan-” Before I can finish, another bottle is thrown my way. This one I try to catch, but it shatters into my palm. “Ah! Rude! I was still talking!”

“I will not be distracted by your lies, foul beast!” This guy sure has a lot of names for me. Probably has a background in a good school, probably one ran by a church given his apparent devotion to god. Oh! He’s a priest, that’s what they’re called. My thoughts are way out of the field of staying on task while trying to wipe the holy water from my hand.

He begins to chant again when a mass hurtles towards him, claws extended and poised to attack. He’s too caught up in saying the words that he doesn’t see the new imp until it’s too late.

Delilah’s claws make quick work, slicing down his shoulders and coming together in the middle of his chest. The priest shrieks, staggering until he falls. Dela uses their position to stab their claws deeper into the man, effectively wounding him.

He screams but is quick to start managing his breathing. I tilt my head, confused, when he starts another aria, I realize. Magic isn’t just about mocking physical laws, it makes a fool out of everyone.

I rush at him, a moment of hesitation and he’ll heal himself. My brain tells me that if he manages to get up, me and Dela are finished, we’re no match for a human. But, what do I do? What’s an effective way to kill someone? Oh god, killing someone? I gulp, stopping in my tracks, paralyzed.

Delilah seems to have caught onto my earlier frenzy, diving their claws into the man’s chest again, right into his heart. He sputters a few coughs, blood bubbling out, before the light leaves his eyes.

“Why stop?”

I crack a smile before I can help myself, “You just said two words. In a row.”

“Escaping.”

Woah! Look at that retort.

“Why?”

How do I explain this? What does one say when they come face to face with a situation that seems so much larger than the simple action. It would be simple to kill him, wouldn’t it? Slice the throat, cut the heart, take off the head. There’s a lot of ways, I suppose, to go about it. But more than that, “Because I was scared.”

“Scared?” Delilah looks at me like I’m crazy. “Human,” they point from the priest to me, “kill.”

“I know they would’ve killed me, I know, but I was scared.”

“Why?”

God, you’re like a three year old! “Every living thing has a spark of life, they have names and feelings and thoughts, Dela.” I gulp, looking at the bloodied bodies now lying before me. “Just as easily as his life ended, mine could have as well. And what makes him so different from me? I may be a demon, but I am alive, I want to live, and he may be a human, but he was alive, he probably wanted to live too.”

“Don’t think.”

“You don’t think that or I shouldn’t think that?”

“You.”

“I can’t help it.” I look at Delilah, trying to convey with my eyes that this way of thinking I have won’t be changing any time soon.

“Understand,” they say with a nod.

“What? Really?”

“No.” The imp shrugs, “But accepted.” I swear I’m gonna cry, Dela gives me a grin, “Friends, right?”

I nod, wiping my eyes. “Friends.”

They avert their gaze, but then turn back to me, “Dela?”

Ah, right, three year old. “A nickname.”

“Nickname?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Kill me now. “A short version of a name.”

“Setia nickname?”

“Nope, it’s just a very short name.”

“Understand.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

That’s what I thought.