Asmodeus's Story

Asmodeus

The light peeking under the window shutters hits my face yet again, another morning in Bluffington it seems. As i wake up, the soft feeling of afterglow reminds me of the events that took place in this subterranean living room. These bottles of red vice scattered around the room bring me the realization of that dry and painful feeling. I do envy those who suffer not of these headaches. However she makes it all up. A tender dryad, lost in the woods of partying and cheap liquor, stumbles to this masquerade of mine. I guess the drinks, the drugs and the musk of love enthralled her, and we ended up here. She feels familiar somehow, not as inexperienced as i thought.

This room bears no memories in my mind, however. Whoever lives here has left hours ago, leaving us unconscious on this red velvet sofa. This architechture is fancy, too fancy for a middle-class resident. I have an assumption that the one who let us in was a regular at my gatherings. Now that i think about it, i do feel a tad bit more sore than usual. I guess he had his fun too.

I grab a bottle from the floor, strange, it still has something in it. The bottle bears the label "Rosier Distillery". Heh, i guess it was considerate of me to drink my own brainchild. Rosier, it's a long time i have used that name, my surname. Father always said i would be one of the great demons, one with the others.

I grab my clothes from the floor, along with a small trophy from her. She won't need them, and i am sure this is not the first time she has lost them. In return i leave my trademark withered, dark rose beside her. Once i am done with the formalities, i proceed to step outside. I do wonder what the spring brings to this sleepy town...

Asmodeus

The air of this town never changes, it always has that strange aura to it. No matter what time of year it was, you always knew you were in here just by smelling the air. I am certainly glad these places exist, out of human cognition. This hidden world of ours seems to grow ever more hidden by the looks of it. Showing your true colours without being screamed at or chased with pitchforks is a refreshing change from the past.

As i stroll downtown i spot a familiar store: Crabapple's. The bookstore everyone knows and loves, filled with books of lost magicks and secrets. The owners are a perfect example of a strange couple. I used to go there, read all those stories they wrote about us, about our existence. Books, books keep me sane on the flow of time. Being alive for this long makes you forget important revelations about yourself. I read books just to stay aware of the current time period.

The Crabapples are a friendly bunch, even if they realize my nature. It's not my fault that i live the high life with them, my siblings, some of which have their presence even in this neck of the woods. I feel like reading again, so i proceed to enter the store. I recieve a cheerful greeting from the missus, and i respond to her with a tender gesture. The smell of printing paper fills my lungs. I proceed to walk towards the adult section of the store, but can't help but notice the round form of a woman somewhere amongst the rows of shelves. I backtrack and witness her talking to someone on the floor. I can't help but snicker at the sight of that peach-shaped beauty, but i regain my thoughts soon, as i see the books she dropped. Spellbooks, a witch from the looks of it, not even a mature one. I do remember the last time i publicly approached teenagers, it was not fun explaining that to the police. I proceed to read some adult books while keeping an eye on the situation. Who knows, maybe she might turn out to be an alluring acquaintance.

C a s s i u s

I nodded sagely, listening to Willow's stuttering and stumbling about grandmother-made food and school worries, no pressures, um, appearances. Yeah. That. At a teenagers' stage of development, they have an imaginary audience that jeers and criticizes their every move, but in all reality it is in fact imaginary. Most teenagers are too worried about their own appearances to pelt other teens with insults. Ah the joys of Psych 101 at community college, giving me logic and labels for adolescent troubles. Okay okay, focus on what the person is saying. Focus.

Oh, she's apologizing again. "Still...I am really sorry... I'm... just a huge clutz.... and I totally didn't mean to like.... tackle you." While she fidgeted and adjusted her glasses, I wondered why she was nervous. It's not as though I was a hulking Godzilla about to swallow her whole. Gross. Cannibalism. Well, it would be cannibalism if I was Godzilla, but still gross.

"Not a problem, dear. I mean I've had my fair share of running into people and walls and a tree one time...Although, I'm pretty sure the tree moved so that doesn't really count does it?" I trailed off, pensively reminiscing. Nature doesn't like me as much as I like it. Probably because I set the lake on fire on accident -- stressing the on accident part -- but none of the lake people seem to want to forgive and forget. Whatever.

"S...s..so, you come to Crabapple's allot?" the teenager inquired looking positively uncomfortable. I had that effect on people, so I shrugged it off mentally.

"I come around once in a while, mostly when my hoard of books run...ah what's the word...dry! Yeah, that," I rambled before sneezing; eyes watered. Ugh, I hated allergies and dust. Especially dust mites, those creepy gross looking microscopic demons. "Plus Mrs. Crabapple gives me twenty percent off on my books. She's a sweetheart," I belatedly added.

A chill ran through me even though I worn my comfortable, cornflower blue sweater. The old store probably had a draft, but no, the chill wasn't from a sudden drop in Fahrenheit. It was a more creeper-alert-be-wary chill. "Ever get that weird feeling you're being watch?" I asked this clichéd phrase, glancing around in paranoia. You can never be too young to be paranoid.

Asmodeus

As i struggle to control my blood flow, i feel like my cover is blown. I back away behind the shelves and stuff the sticky book regarding lizardfolk erotica back to the shelf. Maybe i can get at close range some other time. That butt won't stop haunting me. Some people would say that i should get my mind out of the gutter. I feel like my mind is the gutter.

I spot a strange metal creature pulsating with heat amongst the shelf. My mind fills me with confusion as i try to comprehend the creature before me. Man, the creatures of this world are a gift that keeps on giving. Like that Ettin back in Norway, he was a blast. After some observation of it's shiny forms, i decide to back away.

A shout catches my magical demon ears, a young voice. I peek behind a shelf to see an angry faun shouting at a scared faun. Psh, creatures of the woods are always fighting aren't they. The angry one has a nice frame though, not to mention rather long horns..

Asmodeus
Crabapple's is getting increasingly crowded, and i decide i need to get back to my house anyway. Cleaning bodies overdosed guests is not fun explaining to the cops if i get caught again. A change of pants would not be bad either. I skedaddle out of the store, bumping into the angry faun by the counter on the way out. Dude's got a really good musk on him.

A few hours in, while changing in my apartment, i get a phonecall:

"Who's this?"

-"Hey sexy."

From all the people who would call me, it has to be him.

"Goddamnit Bel, didn't i tell you to not call me during my alone time?"

-"What are you wearing?"

"Shouldn't you be in R&D right now?"

-"Day off. You didn't anwser my question."

He works for a research department somewhere in Europe, from what i heard. He has a unique mind, capable of inventing all sorts of cool stuff. After a brief silence, i decide to dignify his question with an anwser.

"Lingerie, happy?"

-"Absolutely. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, i need to clean my house right about now. And myself."

-"Orgies, huh? You haven't changed a bit."

"Not orgies, Bel, just a small shindig, you know?"

-"Casualties, again? You need to stop serving them something their body cannot handle."

"I need to get them into a right state of mind, you know? Shut up, scrub. Not my fault they decide to hang out with me"

-"I need to hang up now. Oh, almost forgot. Morningstar said to contact him."

Morningstar, a long time since i heard about him. He probably has some great visions again. Last time he was all nuts and bolts about world domination. He probably has Belphegor making secret projects for him again. Who knows what for..

I need a smoke, so i go to the balcony for a few minutes of relaxation.