The School Life of The Other Demon

Go Fast

Demetria's P.O.V.:

"Holy shit! Barry! Grab the fire extinguisher!"

"I can't! I'm stuck!"

"Then fucking get out of them!"

"I can't! Ollie! Help!"

"Help?! I'm trying to get rid of this—I'm stuck!"

"We're going to die!" Allen screams.

"Help!" Queen screams from the top of his lungs. "I'm too young to die!"

"Call someone for help! Your phone's in your pocket!"

"Good idea!" Queen yells, reaching into his pocket. Reaching into his pocket, he begins to tap buttons quickly. Putting the phone on speaker, the other person on the other end answers. Before the other person could speak, Queen interrupted them. "Help us! We're in Bruce's house watching over his daughter! We need h—" Before Queen could finish, the phone beeps indicating the end of the call.

"Did they hang up on you?" Allen asks.

"It's at low battery! We're going to die! It was nice knowing you, buddy," Queen whines.

"Demetria!" Allen yells. "Help us!"

I stay seated in the kitchen at the family kitchen table, staring at them, unamused, watching them struggle. I lean my chin on the palm of my hand, leaning onto the table. A smirk finds its way onto my lips as I continue to sit here, watching them scream for help.

"Demetria!" Queen yells. "Help us! We're going to die!" The fire next to Queen begins to get bigger. "The flames are going to burn my goatee!"

"I wouldn't mind," I smirk.

"Demetria! Please!" Allen begs. "I'll do anything! Get you anything! Just help us! Get us out of here!"

"Demetria!" Allen screams.

"Don't be a little demonic brat!" Queen whines. "Be a little fucking angel and get us out of here before we become barbecued!"

On the other side of the counter stands Allen and Queen, glued to the floor in their attempts at cooking. Queen had decided that he would rather cook than order food from the outside, leading to this. He claims that he had seen a video on the internet of some cooks from an Asian restaurant, cooking with a huge bowl and flames, causing him to test it out himself. The video that he had shown us resulted in a beautiful cuisine, which had made my mouth water, but of course, being the reasonable person I am, I had no high hopes in this dish.

Instead of a mouth-watering dish, I get this—two grown men nearly being burned to death while being glued to the floor by sticky mouse traps and brown sauces that they have managed to spill. Together, they had attempted to create some dishes with chicken. Queen was in charge of cooking the chicken while Allen took the liberty of making the sauce. For some reason, Allen had accidentally mistaken sticky mouse traps as little cutting trays. Don't ask me why or how, but one would think that an adult would know the difference between those things, but no, he did not.

Due to Allen's stupidity, not only has he dropped a massive bowl of sauce that he had somehow practically made it turn into superglue, but he had also somehow managed to drop all of the mouse traps onto the already sticky floor. Now they're both planted in their places by mouse traps and sauce.

As for me, they had forced me to stay seated at the family table. It was a way for them to keep an eye on me while also ensuring that I don't end up harming myself or them. And according to them, 'they got it.'

"Demetria!" Queen exclaims. "Help!"

"Tch. Didn't you two say that 'you got this'?"

"We still got this! We just need a little shove!"