Chapter 003

I think I might be the demon child here

Damn, damn, damn! It’s bad, I’m so screwed! For the first time in my not-so-short history of being in this world I’m forced into the spotlight. I had to do it, the alternative was even worse, but still! I am in deep shit right now! My father, my uncle, my grandfather, my cousin, the slaves in the room, my grandfather's bodyguards... all of them are looking at me with shock written on their faces. And then, my father says…

“Did you just say something?” Ah, damn it. Everything was going so well…

* * *

Last year was more or less good. Most of it was anyway. I spent it on… ‘bonding’ with my cousin and Kiera practically everyday. The scenario for each day was similar, my host was playing alone and so was Iar’e and Kiera. Everyone absorbed in their own, private game or some other activity. Of course my relatives (technically my host’s relatives, but who cares about such details) treated me like a leper carrier, or at the very least a suicidal bomber. Every time my Host made a louder sound they would nervously shriek. They were cautious and careful but eventually one of them - and by that I mean mostly Iar’e, though Kiera also started to be mean to my host, probably as a form of revenge - would start bullying my host. In most cases ‘eventually’ meant a period of two or three weeks, but every time it would take them more and more time to go back to the ever shorter and fragile periods of peaceful coexistence.

One example of said bullying was verbal abuse - which usually served as a prelude to more severe suff, since host was too detached to pay attention and I didn’t really care. I feel dumb for using the word ‘severe’ to describe throwing and taking away toys, but I have to accept my current reality. This body is going to be mine very soon, therefore I’ve no choice but to play the cards I got from life. Which includes role-playing.

And truth be told, I wasn’t really responding to their teasing. If I were to act creepy regularly, my… our dear family would quickly start avoiding me, which was the opposite of what I wanted. It was my only form of entertainment and by no means I’d want to lose it! At least not before gaining full and permanent control over this body. So because of all this, most of their teasing was left without an answer. Which, over time, only made them try harder. And at the points when my desire to ignore them and safely wait some more, was outweighed by the pity I felt towards my abused host… that’s when I made my moves.

Initially it was really only staring at Iar’e or Kiera - it depended on who was currently the naughty one. I gazed right at them, without blinking, for extensive periods of time. Unfortunately it only served its purpose for the first three weeks, after which they both simply began to ignore me. Because of that I decided to take it one step further. One day, when my host was once again hit by Iar’e’s thrown toy, I began walking towards my pesky cousin. Slowly, one small step at a time, all the while continuously looking at him. This brought his attention, as well as - also present back then - Kiera’s.

He tried to back off from me but soon the wall behind his back stopped him. Sliding against it he managed to get into the corner of the room. Meanwhile I desperately tried not to burst out with laughter nor reveal myself with a stupid smirk. The situation was utterly hilarious. I - about three years old at the moment - was just standing in front of a three years older, and a head taller, kid… who was pinned against the corner of the room and terrified. Pure comedy. The only thing missing was a theme song and a laugh track playing in the background.

We were stuck like this for a little while. The whole situation became even more hilarious - in its own weird way - when I realized that I didn’t think it all up well enough and I really had no clue on how to end this. Iar’e was shaking out of fear - to my surprise, as I didn’t know he was this much frightened of me - while I desperately tried to think of a logical ending. I was saved from disgrace by Kiera, who I heard running out of the room. I quickly blinked a few times, turned around, came back to my host’s playing spot and gave up control. Host, my silent but only friend resumed playing as if nothing happened. Though Iar’e remained frozen in place until Kiera arrived with a slave who was supposed to watch over us. I still wonder if he thought that in reality all three of us are heavily impaired.

Of course at this point I realised that I was scaring Iar’e for life by acting this way. I was practically designing his future mental injuries and made it impossible for the two of us to become friends later in life. All this time a quiet voice in my mind was whispering it to me. However, despite it being egoistic and bad, I felt that Iar’e deserved all this. If - as a six-year-old - he was already a cocky stinkard brat, who’s entertainment was bullying his retarded cousin, then who would he become in the future? Exactly what happens every time a bad and spoiled child grows older. We get a bad and spoiled adult, who in this case would have both money and power. Not to mention a legion of slaves. What if somehow he was to become the head of the family?! True - it wasn’t just his fault. Every parent raising a child the way my uncle and his wife did, should do everyone a favour, and leave the kid to the closest orphanage, and afterwards castrate themselves with a dull knife. Or better yet - not make kids in the first place.

Thus far I was unable to do anything to my dear uncle. Puking on his boots might have been an option if I could control the body whenever I wanted but even then I wouldn’t deem that plan worthy of attempting. At this point scaring Iar’e was the limit of my possibilities. If only for the slim chance that because of it he won’t grow up into an asshole motherfucker he seemed to slowly become.

I never attacked Kiera as hard. I might’ve not liked Iverie, but at least when it comes to educating children, she’s a few levels above my uncle. Actually Kiera’s involvement was just a case of collateral damage. It seemed like she was being forced to spend more and more time with us - probably because on her own she just didn’t want to, so Iverie made her. Which rendered torturing my cousin only when we were alone practically impossible.

Alright, ok, I confess. Torturing my cousin was nice in its own way. Dammit, it sounds like I’m the villain here. I’m not proud of it and I won’t share it with anyone. Even if at some point in the future I’m going to have friends or followers whom I’ll trust enough to explain my otherworldly origins… For some time I was wondering if I’m just a bully desperately looking for excuses for my behavior. For a week or two I was even considered giving up on it entirely, but then I saw Iar’e venting frustration on a random slave. Bad move, cousin, but thanks for help with getting guilt out of my way.

Considering how harsh he treated that slave - yes I’m still talking about a seven-year-old brat - I even decided to kick it up a notch. Of course I didn’t mean to overdo it - it could be disastrously counterproductive. If I pressed too hard he might’ve snapped in a very inconvenient and dangerous way. Fear and desperation may have pushed him to do something stupid… And the last thing I wanted was being stabbed in the middle of the night with a kitchen knife.

I tried to keep him in a state of unease and only from time to time I was doing something more to keep the memory of fear somewhat fresh. As for Kiera, I was treating her in a similar, but milder way, mainly so she wouldn’t try to interrupt me. Honestly, till now she managed to realize that as long as she doesn’t bother me, I just focus on Iar’e. It prevented him from doing anything against me… at least directly. But even his attempts to persuade his father, some other family members and slaves checking on us sometimes, that I - or rather my host - is acting in a weird and creepy way, backfired. Everyone just ignored him and his occasional begging not to spend time with me. It was actually Kiera who always called for slaves, usually with a ready made up excuse - not to risk another earful from her mother - thus ending the ‘fun’, when Iar’e was close to mental breakdown. Though I wouldn’t exactly call it a good behavior since she seemed to gain satisfaction out of Iar’e’s torment. What a sick family, dammit. I have an increasing desire to build an atom bomb and blow this place up completely.

Well… Iar’e’s attempts to grab attention weren’t completely ignored. Some rumors began to circulate in the mansion, but surprisingly enough, not about me. It seemed like everyone - even slaves - thought that there’s something wrong with him. The moment I found out about it was simply priceless. And shortly after that I overheard his argument with his father, who told him, in a mockingly soft way, to shut the fuck up and stop his stupid jokes… and that was even better.

Next few months were - once again - rather monothematic. I continued my ‘fear therapy’, and Iar’e was scared. All the time. As for Kiera… It seemed like Iverie finally began to lose interest in this whole ‘bonding time’ and didn’t force her daughter to come anymore. It was hard to determine if it was a change for the better or worse.

It was quite surprising that even after all this time Iar’e still couldn’t just ignore my behavior. I wasn’t sure whether he was so mentally strong - to withstand all that happened - or just too stupid to finally break. I was slowly losing the resolve to even continue this game. Especially since Iar’e stopped being an asshole. But every time I thought that, I was fast to correct myself - he just stopped being an asshole to me. He was still mistreating slaves, especially those assigned to him.

The only actual change was that he learned that mentioning anything about our ‘play time’ to slaves or family was inherently a bad idea. Gossips and rumors about him could still be heard because he simply couldn’t hide his fearfulness and his attempts to avoid any contact with me. Especially being alone with me was a no-no, so he was doing everything he could to keep someone in our room beside us. Before it wasn’t much of an issue since Kiera was often with us. But, when Iverie mostly withdrew her from grandpa’s project, Iar’e began practicing the noble art of rhetoric and by using verbal acrobatics made sure to keep one of our nannies or even a slave responsible for cleaning to stay with us at all times.

It’s not hard to guess how it influenced the general opinion about him in the mansion.

After those few months I decided that it was time to… spice things up a little. My grip over this body finally became strong enough to allow me to take control whenever I wanted, which was a requirement for me to initiate anything instead of just reacting. At first I copied Iar’e’s old habit of throwing toys at my host when he wasn’t looking - which at this point was a thing of the past. Every time I took control for as short period of time as possible, just enough to throw something, so when Iar’e turned to look at me he only saw his retarded cousin playing peacefully like nothing happened.

After a few weeks of playing like this - during which Kiera almost completely disappeared from our bonding time - my dear cousin was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Nervous glances he was throwing at me every five seconds were a hard to miss sign of his… justified paranoia.

During the months that passed before I started throwing toys, Iar’e began learning to read and write. His lessons took place somewhere else - and if I understood correctly with a hired or bought teacher. And every now and again he would receive ‘homework’. He mostly practiced pace and precision of his writing. And where else was he supposed to do it if not during his free time, most of which we were spending together. Although, by now he most likely saw it as more of a prison… combined with mental asylum. What’s important though, is that his occupation gave me an idea which I initially deemed too cruel to set in motion - not to mention the fact that without the initiative I have now it wouldn’t work anyway. However, now I was well past the point of ‘too cruel’. And so, every time he would leave the room - usually to use a toilet (which by some miracle were indoors, supplied with water and connected to the sewer system, and for a world looking like a peculiar combination of ancient Rome and italian merchant republics it was a great achievement) I’d draw something on his practice parchment.

The sketches I’d draw even shared a theme. Usually I’d draw a boy sitting behind a desk - just like Iar’e was spending most of his time - and another boy playing with toys - obviously that was my host. However, there would also be a third figure in the drawing. Dark and barely humanoid. A twisted silhouette standing beside the playing boy but looking (as much as I could convey it without drawing any eyes) straight at the other one. My art wouldn’t entertain any connoisseur but for Iar’e it was quite enough.

I must say that, in my humble opinion, this was one of the most ingenious ideas I’ve ever had. When Iar’e found the first of my sketches he was really happy because he finally got a proof. He immediately approached a slave watching over us, but he told my cousin to sow it to his father later this evening. Iar’e was visibly overjoyed for the rest of the day - his facial expression could only be described as ‘Ha, now you’re finished!’. His happiness disappeared overnight after he was thoroughly scolded for ‘drawing nonsense and wasting ink and parchment, and then trying to lie to everybody that his retarded cousin did it’ - this was actually a quotation, as my uncle was quite loud and several slaves overheard the scolding which became the sole topic of gossips for the next few days.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

And that’s why this idea was so brilliant. Every time I’d draw another picture Iar’e would take the blame. Plus - their content was in itself disturbing enough to get him visibly afraid of the dark. And either I turned him schizophrenic, or that bastard Trespasser joined our ‘bonding time’ because a few times I saw my cousin acting as if he actually saw something terrifying in the dark, especially behind the windows in the evening. And I wasn’t the only one to notice his behavior, so even more gossips about my cousin’s mental instability began to circulate in the mansion. Many of them blamed my uncle for it, saying that he intentionally fed Iar’e with some made up scary stories about me to sabotage my grandfather’s orders as a part of some greater scheme that terribly backfired.

About that time it finally came to me that I might’ve overdone it a bit. The… lessons I gave to my cousin in fact led me nowhere. Sure, during those last few weeks Iar’e finally stopped being such an asshole - even to slaves… But unfortunately it wasn’t a product of his sudden change in character but ever growing fear. And fear directed towards more and more people and objects. It was me actually who was an asshole at that point and that was enough to ruin my peace of mind. I decided to end it - but not immediately. I’d gradually decrease the frequency and intensity of acting creepy and occasionally act ‘normal’ around other people thus simulating my mental condition getting better over time. Life, however, had other plans…

Unsurprisingly all hell broke loose quite suddenly. It all started - surprise, surprise - with a gossip. Well… not quite exactly a gossip… The important part is that I heard it from my nanny. One of these days when my time with what’s left of Iar’e was supervised by my nanny and some other slave - Iar’e’s teacher or maybe caretaker… Anyway, they were talking about my mother’s recent condition in regard of my safety. Or, to be more precise, and I quote ‘what’s gonna happen with this poor child now that milady is pregnant’...

Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Not. Fucking. Good. All of my great plans for the next year or two just went straight to hell. After all I’m just an irritating and more or less useless retard, who was born as the only child of this family's main branch, probably as a joke made by God/gods/Cthulhu/Flying Spaghetti Monster (who the hell knows what they believe in here). And now there’s gonna be another potential successor. How long will it take for someone to have this brilliant idea of erasing me from existence? It’s easier to say ‘well, he died by fainting and drowning in a bowl of soup before anyone even noticed - what a terrible accident’ than to spend next forty or so years paying for my food, clothes and someone to take care of me. Taking into account the ancient approach to this kind of stuff and it’s a goddamn miracle that I wasn’t left somewhere in a forest right after birth.

I always knew that eventually I’d reach a point from which I’d have to stop hiding behind my host. The moment when I’d have to say something along the lines ‘Hey, I’m actually not retarded! Yay!’. But despite knowing about its inevitability I really didn’t expect it to happen before my fifth birthday when according to that black bastard the assimilation (or hostile takeover) of my host would finish - I wouldn’t be able to pretend to be him anyway. But it was still a whole year until that day and it seemed like I really didn’t have any other option to chose than to finally step into the spotlight for good.

And of course, as it became my only alternative, I wasn’t going to execute it in any stupid way. It’s not that I was afraid that if I were to say to a random slave ‘Hey! I’m not retarded, go get my dad’, certain someone might intercept him on the way and improvise unfortunate accidents for both me and the slave… Besides, even if that would really happen - I’d still survive, then again explaining my resurection could be difficult - God forbid I’d become an inspiration for a new religion. All in all I just wanted it to be over so I had to make a reveal in front of my father. Or better yet - most of the ‘close’ family, as it would be better that going from one relative to another throughout a whole week to present myself as a healthy and normal child. Besides, such a meeting could potentially become hilarious, and I intended to make it so. I even had an idea how to organize it.

I decided to end this whole thing with damaging my cousin in one clean move - coup de grâce. I waited for us to be left alone in the room. Fortunately it didn’t take long - at this point Kiera was practically never with us and slaves avoided being in one room with Iar’e as much as they could… This time there’s no place for subtlety. I force myself in control - it’s surprisingly easy now, which I guess is a sign of progressing assimilation - and throw a toy my host was playing with, directly at Iar’e. I manage to hit him in the head, which is really lucky because I didn’t even try to aim, but I have no time to appreciate it. Using my cousin's confusion in just a few big steps I reach his desk. When Iar’e understands the situation… i guess he tried to stand up and run away simultaneously but it ended up as a fall to the floor alongside his chair.

However, I’m already busy drawing my very last masterpiece. A sketch similar to those I drew before, only this time with another character. A stick figure of myself standing over the playing kid controlling my host like a puppet. And that black human-like silhouette standing over the other kid. I had to throw the parchment at Iar’e because he was already trying to crawl away backwards… I guess he saw the drawing coz he started to crawl faster. Not fast enough.

I catch up to him right as his back hits the wall. He’s too terrified to do anything so I stand up to him and right to his ear I whisper “You’re next.” He practically catapults towards the door screaming something I can’t understand and pushes me away in the process. I’ll miss our time together… At least when I’ll get over the guilt i still feel over it. On the other hand - serves him right. Shouldn’t have been such an asshole and kindergarten bully.

Saying that my… performance, created a huge commotion in the mansion is like saying nothing at all. Of course Iar’e’s panic played a big role, but I’m the writer and director of this performance and I feel a little bit of pride over executing it so effectively. Slaves and family members are running everywhere not bothering to close any doors. And I’m just peacefully sitting in a playroom, hidden behind my host - who with no concern in the world keeps having fun in his own way - waiting for all of this to end one way or another. It took a good hour before they finally found my cousin. Everyone is talking about it and that’s how I know he was hiding in one of the broom closets… in a cupboard… with a bunch of lit candles… while blabbering something incomprehensibly to himself.

This finally caught the attention of my grandfather, who just couldn’t ignore gossips anymore. No more than two hours passed since finding Iar’e and the patriarch barges into our playroom together with two nasty looking men who I think are his bodyguards. Slaves quickly organize additional chairs and then he sits in one of them. He glances at me a few times but other than that - he’s simply sitting there, obviously waiting for something.

Maybe a quarter of an hour later my father joins us. He looks like he came in running, so most likely he was outside the mansion when the news reached him. He tries to talk to grandfather, apparently wanting to find out what exactly happened and what’s this gathering about, but he’s told to shut up and wait for his brother. And after a few more minutes of awkward silence my uncle and - still terrified - cousin also come. It probably took them so long because Iar’e had to be heavily calmed down, but still he instantly takes his chair and sits in the farthest corner of the room, exactly as far from me as he can. Damn, I may have overdid it a little… My coup de grâce probably metaphorically pushed him right over the edge, but at least I achieved my goal and everyone is here - except Iverie and Kiera, but that’s just a little detail.

Seeing that everyone is present, grandfather finally speaks. With his deep voice and authoritarian tone.

“Well, since you’re all here… Could anyone tell me what the fuck happened tonight? Lenniel, can you explain why did your son hide in a closet with lit candles, risking burning himself alive along with half of the estate?” Oh. So my uncle’s name is Lenniel, good to know. It was actually the first time I heard it, which seems kinda sad and serves as yet another evidence that relationships in this family aren’t exactly the healthiest. “Not to mention his constant blabbering about his cousin being possessed? Well?”

“Someone must have decided to play at his expense! It looks like a particular someone didn’t like your decision father and tried to undermine it by trying to scare my son. Most likely with magic. Did you, my dear brother, hire an illusion-capable magician lately?” Lenniel used the situation to attack my father who decided to retaliate.

“No, I didn’t, what isn’t surprising, as there was no magic involved. Just an idiot who tried to feed his son with scary stories to sabotage our father’s plan. But he forgot that kids at that age have vivid imagination, so his ingenious plan backfired terribly. Isn’t that right, Lenniel?”

“That’s not true!” My cousin joins the quarrel. “He is a demon, a demon!”

All adults in the room seem irritated by his intrusion. His father would most likely say something harsh, if not for the fact that there are other people with us in the room and it would be hard to blame Iar’e for ‘joking’ now.

Suddenly my uncle stands up and walks up to me. For a moment I’m too surprised to react as he grabs me by my clothes and lifts me to stand up. When I look into his face I can see that he’s really, really angry. His grip is so strong that it actually hurts.

“So? Are you just a demon or just a retard?” I mustered all my courage. It’s not easy to openly speak to him. “Well, I guess I can’t really expect any answer from you now can I?”

And then… it happened.

“What’s a demon?” I know I should have said something different but that was the first thing that came to my mind.

My uncle is shocked to the point that his grip weakened and I’m free. As I don’t want to be anywhere near him - especially because my host, even weakened, still emanates his strong antipathy towards my uncle - I use this occasion to break free and move back a few steps. And then I notice that everyone is shocked just as much as him. Damn, damn, damn, I hate being in the spotlight! I am generally a shy person, especially with strangers, and unfortunately here everyone’s technically a stranger. The silence continues for a few seconds. The first one to regain his ability to speak is my father. He actually stands up and cames to me, while pushing my uncle away.

“Did you just say something?” At least I don’t need to imitate shyness or awkwardness. I really feel bad with being in the center of everyone’s attention… I think I’m starting to understand my host - closing off in oneself appears to be the easiest way of escaping the situation - not the best way though.

“Y...yes, father.” I blurt after a moment. I can feel my cheeks getting red. Not literally, but I’m nearly sure it’s happening. I have problems looking at my ‘family’ so I’m just staring at my feet. Damnit, according to Trespasser I’m supposed to be some kind of a demon lord of this world, I shouldn’t behave like that! I’ll need to improve in that matter in the future… if there is any future for me that is.

My family is still shocked. Only the slaves - the ones that brought chairs - are whispering in the back of the room.

“So… is it true what Iar’e said about you? About you trying to scare him?” My father’s surprised too, but he at least can speak. I guess the question he wanted to ask was rather ‘You’re not retarded?!’ but as he’s not sure if I’d even understand it, he tried to do it indirectly.

“Well… y-yes, it is.” On my cousin’s face I can see a mixture of ‘what the hell is happening?!’ and ‘See? See? I WAS RIGHT!’. I can’t blame him, I would feel the same if I was him. “But I only did it because he was mean to me!”

“Mean? In what way?” That was unexpected, is my father who never even wanted to see me genuinely worried about me?

“He was saying mean things about me. And he was throwing things at me. And I heard his dad telling him to do that. And i didn’t know what to do. And then I thought that if I act scary maybe he would stop it.” It’s actually quite hilarious to watch as all heads in the room suddenly turn to face my uncle. Their looks could be translated as ‘Holy fuck, you seriously did that?’. Lenniel faintly says something I can’t understand. His face starts getting red with a combination of anger and embarrassment. Well, it’s not like he can do anything - right now I have everyone’s attention and they have no reason to doubt my words. Now I just have to pray that nobody asks me how I knew how to ‘act scary’.

“So, for a year you could behave like a… umm… normal child?” My father finally asks me the main question, though I guess it wasn’t easy for him as he wasn’t sure how to say it.

“Yes, but not all the time. At the beginning I felt… strange, like I couldn’t control my body, for most of the time. But it started getting better lately.” I gave him a weak smile, full of shyness. Then I’m back to staring at my feet. And then… an ingenious and insane idea suddenly enters my mind. “It gets worse only when… when... “ I pretend that my voice fails me. And my father - who suddenly started acting oh so fatherly - hugs me.

“...when what?” He tries to encourage me.

“W-when uncle stays with me… and… touches me…“ And then my voice fake-fails me for the second time - this time mostly because I’m desperately trying to withhold laughter. But I no longer need to say anything, as the deed was done. The room suddenly goes silent. I can see my uncle’s face suddenly losing all color. He knows I’m lying, but who would believe him? All other faces - even the ones belonging to slaves - are filled with disgust. And the look I see on my grandfather’s face can’t even be described.

But the scariest face belongs to my father. He looks calm - or rather completely focused. He stands up and turns towards my uncle. Lenniel, after seeing him, squeals something and instantly starts running to the door. Too slow - my father catches him when he’s still trying to open them and practically ramms them open with my uncle’s head who falls to the ground. My father proceeds by kicking him violently. He lands at least five good kicks before grandfather’s bodyguards drag him away. Though they look like they’d rather join him.

Thus ended our second ‘family meeting’. My uncle was dragged outside, leaving a trail of blood from his smashed nose. My cousin - with a face full of tears - accompanying him. Then my father and grandfather made a short but rather heated talk about me and my uncle. I didn’t understand some words, mostly used in conjecture with my uncle’s name - I guess they were profanities - but it looked like, while they couldn’t really do anything to him because of lack of evidence and all his backers - both inside and outside the Veles family, even though he just lost his high standing in it. At the same time my position have risen from ‘useless and retarded trash’ to the potential heir, who might be treated as a normal child.

And of course ‘bonding time’ with my cousin is no more.