Demon's Hide

Vual the Demon

You've recently taken over the family shop from your mother. It was a family tradition. One that has passed down since your great-great-great-great grandmother. The shop is a landmark and a treasured destination sight for many a witch and wizard alike. You've been training since you were thirteen with your grandmother.

You hate it.

Not the shop itself. Actually, you love the shop. It's what comes along with the ownership of it that you hate. When your whatever great-grandmother started the shop, she summoned a powerful demon. She wanted the demon to protect it and ensure good wealth for the family. He attaches himself to the current owner once it is passed along. He calls himself Vual and he didn't have a good relationship with your mother. So he decides to hate you off the bat.

He mocks you for your pink hair. He gropes you as you try to talk to customers, knowing they can't see him. He moves things in the shop. Nothing destructive, just enough to have to make you work your ass off.

He has a long neck he enjoys to stretch out and alarm you. He has a shark-like head with a mouth full of jagged and shiny teeth and two red tongues. He often cracks nuts with his powerful jaws. Snapping them and making you lurch from your skin. When he does it close enough to your ear it sounds like your skull snapping.

"Do you even need to eat those?" You snap at him. "Or are you wasting my ingredients?"

He spits the shells out and smirks at you. His seven dark eyes peering at you and narrowing. He has two normal eyes with two tiny eyes underneath and then a large eye in the center of his forehead.

"The latter," he replies with his smoky voice.

You frown at him. "Listen, I've been here for three months," you stomp your foot. "We need to talk."

"Need to talk?" He laughs. "Are you going to break up with me?"

You frown at him, crossing your arms tight against your chest. "Vual," you keep your voice stern and even. "My grandmother spoke so highly of you. She loved you. I wanted to come into this loving you as well. Don't let my bitch of a mother sour what we could have."

He scoffs, his lip curling. "You look too much like her. I can't tell you apart."

"Pink hair!" You snap, tugging the ends of it. "I also have my dad's eyes and I don't have her voice!" He huffs. "Vual, you're supposed to be my familiar or whatever. Why won't you even try."

He glares down at you. One set of his four hands clasping you around the face. "A great set of tits and chubby thighs won't fool me anymore."

Your eyes widen, "what?" You ask.

"You can say you care and want my friendship," he growls. "You know as well as I do that when you birth your own horrible little offspring you'll be out the door when she's of age. I'm done making friends."

You grasp Vual's hand and squeeze it before shoving it down. "Lucky you," you scoff. "I can't have kids."

His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack.

You frown up at him. "I'm the end of the line," you sigh and shrug. "I never wanted kids anyway. So either way, I'm with you until I die."

He lowers down, meeting your eyes. He closes all his eyes except the big one in the middle of his forehead and it goes from black to blue. He then pulls back with a stunned look on his face.

"What?" You snap at him.

"You're not lying. You stay by my side."

"I don't like you looking into my future," you mutter, rubbing your arms.