Demon's Hide

Graer the Dullahan

Nonbinary Reader x Male Monster

For as long as you can remember, there has been a strange box that your mother keeps. She has it displayed above the fireplace on a mantel that no one can reach without getting a chair or stepladder. You never paid much attention to it. It was just a box really. It was black with gold filigree all over it. Nothing special, so you just kind of ignored it for years.

Well, then your mother passed away. You were left with the old house and everything in it. Being the only child, you were prepared for this to happen. You just weren't ready for it. The first few days, you just kind of existed in the house. Going through routines and paths that were so ingrained in your muscle memory you could walk through the old house with your eyes closed.

You were a late in life child, your father died before even knowing you were conceived. Your mother never really recovered after having you, but she still worked hard to give you a good life. You were able to go to school and not worry, all because of her. She was the biggest component of your life, and now she was gone.

One day, as you're starting to come to your senses again, you look up at the box, far up on the mantle. Your mother was so particular, she always kept everything dusted and neat. Everything! And she had so many knickknacks and curios it was astounding. You look around, seeing a fine layer of dust on everything. To your horror, you realize your mother must be rolling over in her grave right now.

Immediately, you set to work. You go through the entire house, dusting and cleaning, giving everything the polish and shine your mother used to. You work your way back into the living room, and you climb up onto a chair to clean the box above the fireplace. You take it from the shelf and are stunned by how heavy it is. It isn't made of wood as you thought, but iron.

You try to clean it while holding it, but the heft of it makes it hard to grasp. The box slips from your fingers and crashed down onto the floor with a loud thud.

"What the fuck?" You hear someone yell.

You gasp and look around. Then you remember, you're in a house on the ground floor. There's a basement, but no one is down there, hopefully. You also don't have any neighbors. So, just who the hell said that?"

"Did you drop me?" The voice snarls again.

You glance down at the box, seeing a red glow coming from the crack of the lid.

Your mouth opens then you close it again as you step off the chair. "Yes?"

The box rattles and you hear a low growling sound from inside. You reach down to pick the box up, but it's far too hot to touch. You reel back, hissing and fanning your hands in the air.

"All these years," the voice inside the box growls. "You keep me trapped here all these years and now, you drop me."

You furrow your brow, watching the box. You see the lock on it is twitching back and forth from the hook. "I didn't mean to," you murmur.

They laugh from inside the box. "That's really rich, Matilda!"

"I'm not Matilda," you chirp. "That's my mom."

The voice goes silent. "Well, where the fuck is she?"

You glare down at the box, feeling a heavy weight on your chest. "She died," You grumble. "About a week ago." Even admitting it is painfully hard.

The voice is silent then scoffs. "That really takes the wind out of my sales," it snarls. "I wanted to kill her."

You glare at the box. "That's my mom, asshole!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did she steal your head and lock in a box too? Is that why you're so fucking clumsy and dropped me?" The voice hisses. "I was better off asleep!"