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The world has never been kind to the likes of us. Those that wake in the morning thinking of only when they can fall back asleep. Those that dread every moment they must speak to another. Those that struggle through it all.
No, the world has never been kind at all.
You know this better than any.
But sometimes, all it takes is one person, one meeting, and the world seems, even just for a moment, bearable.
It was one of those nights. The nights where your thoughts are louder than any thunderclap, and your mind dares not slow down in the fear that if it does, the world will actually end as you’re imagining. The world will stop turning, it will fall from the sky, you will no longer exist.
You sigh as you realize how far sleep is from your grasp. It was going to be a long, long night.
Getting up from your tangle of blankets, you slide on some slippers, and sit on the edge of the bed. The moon was full tonight, lighting up the room through the window like an unfinished puzzle—jagged and not fully there. You stare out at the buildings, wishing for nothing more than to be surrounded by the nature you grew up with. Those fields, trees, wildlife, everything that was home.
The room thrummed with some inexplicable energy. It was as if this town you found yourself in was never going to stop. It was the furthest from nature that you could be. A forest of brick and metal, and the only wild animals were the frat boys that insisted on drinking another shot of vodka. You sigh again.
What a mess.
You stand, hearing your bones crack and pop from being immobile for so long. You walk across the room to your stash of sweets. What better way to cope than the sweet feeling of a caramel candy melting on your tongue, or the lovely scent of a chocolate piece that has been freshly opened? You pick randomly, unwrapping the candy and popping it into your mouth without a care, and cringe. Grape. The most ungodly flavor in the history of mankind.
Just as the flavor, your mood only sours.
You gaze out of the window again, imagining that there were, in fact, trees. That those buildings were simply a disguise, so this forest could remain untouched by human hands. A last resort to avoid any unwelcome invitees.
Then there’s nothing but green, and you can’t help but scream.
“Got any leftover for me?”
The blob of green opens the window and steps in, completely silent, as if they were lighter than air. And by the looks of their figure, they couldn’t weigh much more than that. Their jacket flowed around them, just increasing the blob effect of muted green in the moonlight.
Then you saw the little bulb on their head, and your previous shock left your body. You grabbed a sucker and threw it their way.
“Amaimon, you know better than to scare me like that,” you patronize, but there’s no heat in your voice. If anything, you were ecstatic that he was here. Things might go a little smoother with a friend around.
He catches the candy and sets it into his mouth, making an obscene slurping noise that makes you twist your face up in disgust.
“Don’t be so desperate when you’re missing the forest and I wouldn’t have to just pop in. You know how to contact me,” Amaimon adds, still focusing on his candy. You laugh a bit, knowing he just wants more candy.
“Didn’t mean to be so desperate, it’s just one of those nights,” you sigh. “You know, that human stuff.” He tilts his head at that, confused. Though Amaimon has spent centuries in the human world, he still has no clue how you all work. Well, you, he understands. The rest? No clue.
You move back to the bed, waving your hand at the candy stash to signal Amaimon has free reign over whatever he wishes. He makes a beeline, grabbing a few before perching on the table, humming as he inspects his haul.
“Do you have any grape ones,” Amaimon questions, and you nod, making another wave. He rummages in the bag again, pulling out some grape pieces and gets down from the table. He walks over to your bed and plops himself right beside you.
You can’t help but smile at the situation. Years ago, when you were small, you had been running around in the forest, inspecting everything. You had managed to get lost after following an interesting trail of mushrooms, and proceeded to cry out. You were small, lost, and definitely not going to be getting home anytime soon.
At that point, a figure had walked out from the brush, and stared down at you. “You’re loud,” he had said, no emotion. It was just an observation. You had looked up at him and stopped crying. He looked like he was from the trees themselves, earthy tones and no facial expression, just observing you. You felt no fear.
“Are you a fairy,” you asked, amazed at this man. His face then held a toothy grin, all sharp edges.
“Demon,” he replied. “I am called Amaimon in this age, and I am king of the earth.” You just nodded. Demon, fairy, same thing.
After that, Amaimon helped you home, but you two continued to find each other. He taught you about the earth, about the forests, and all that resided. He explained what demons were, and you grew up with books filled with notes about each and every species of living, non-living, and sort of living beings.
Amaimon became your best friend, and your protector.
He bumped your shoulder, looking at you.
“You good?”
You nod. “I’m alright. It’s just a bad night.” He hums, moving onto his next piece of candy. “You know how I am. Being away from home, from the earth… this place feels almost like a tomb, all stone and metal and edges.”
He glances around, and nods in agreement. “This place sucks. Why are you here again?”
“College, dummy.”
“Oh yeah. Paying someone to educate you so you can get paid to pay off paying… now my head hurts,” Amaimon mutters. That’s the one thing he couldn’t understand—money. Payment comes in other forms that are much more practical. And education doesn’t need that much payment.
You sigh, laying down. Your brain was slowing, but you were still awake. The quiet munching from Amaimon helped you calm down enough to not be as worried. He looked over at you, and sighed.
Suddenly, the room was covered in green. Bushes, flowers, plants, even a few saplings covered your walls and floor. Vines creeped up the side of your still open window, and the air smelled of earth. You smiled a big grin, feeling relaxed.
Amaimon was a demon, yes. He has killed, he has lied, he has cheated. But he had one thing that no other could truly provide to you.
He brought you home.