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Taber kicked rocks as he walked, half-heartedly examining dead bodies and checking under crates for loot with the edge of his spear. Smoldering embers crunched beneath his feet as he stumbled forward, his eyes glazed over in a mind-numbed trance. He continued forward until he almost stepped on some wilting vegetables. He jumped out of the way to avoid stepping on any then fell on the ground, dropping his spear, and started pulling up plants as quicking as possible. He threw them all in a pile when someone grabbed his wrist, holding him back.
“Why are you doing?” Bradan hissed. Taber stumbled backwards onto his feet.
“They have vegetables,” Taber pointed to his small pile of unripened radishes, “We could eat for months.”
“Demons don’t eat vegetables,” Bradan snarled, “Demons eat meat.”
“Meat makes us starve!” Taber shrieked through clenched teeth, his body contorting from the strain he put on his body. He struggled to maintain his composure but managed to swallow back the vile thing he was, “When was the last meat we had? Whence the next? I am so starrrr” Taber’s jaw dropped with his voice ten octaves. He quickly marched towards Bradan, his steps comically short. Bradan scurried backwards, not to get away but to get out of the way; to not obstruct the bit. After a second, Taber inhaled deeply and his voice returned to normal, “vvving, brother.”
“I will feed on you, scummy cousin.” Bradan shoved his kin, puffing out his chest and attempting to reassert his dominance.
Taber’s eyes darkened at Bradan’s actions. The wilder demon twitched as his being changed from his so-called state of sanity to allow him access to his full range of power. “Brother would never eat my vegetables, then brother would never eat me.” Taber attempted to crack a twisted smile and split his lips like spiderwebs, damage that requires power he didn’t possess to heal, “Demons be the meat they seek.” Taber suddenly took Bradan’s head between his hands and attempted to wrestle his kin to the ground. “Open wide, cousin. Spill your guts and cook.”
Bradan had proven himself to be one of the more superior members of his pack. He had wrestled three scummies at once, held back a rival scouting party of lesser demons, and even held his own when up against some of the greater demons, both physically and mentally. There was an acceptable balance between his spark and his sanity, nothing that prevented him from being not humbled every now and then but it certainly was used to keep demons like Taber in their place. Despite all this, Bradan struggled to break free of his crazed brother. There was very little that could separate a demon and its prey.
A bullet could very easily, and a bullet did. It skipped across Taber’s chest but that alone did nothing to stop him. The bullet bounced and ricocheted, the sound of it hitting a metal helmet was then followed by the words, “Drop him, Taber,” though it was the tone that caused Taber to release his brother more than anything. Once he was free, Bradan scrambled backwards. He kept a scowl on his face as he fled and he fled not just away from Taber but from the bitch he was scowling at. Her boots crunched bones under her heavy footsteps, her clothes as blood-stained and torn as they were three days ago when she cursed Bradan’s pack with her presence.
The bitch cocked her six-cylinder pistol and pointed it between Taber’s eyes, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Shut up, bitch--” Bradan started when the bitch swung her gun over to him.
“You will only speak when I address you.” Her words struck him as deeply as a bullet. Bradan quickly shut his mouth, biting his tongue until blood began to pool in the back of his throat. But he wasn’t afraid, nope, nope, nope. It was her shitty magic that was doing this, that’s all. She would be weak without it, and it’s not even that strong. He’s just low on energy from the days without proper sustenance, something that is also her fault.
The bitch turned back to Taber, keeping her gun on Bradan as her eyes locked down on the lesser demon, and repeated, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Having a demon in me.” Taber foamed. He looked at the bitch with wild eyes. If she wasn’t holding him back with her gaze, he would have attempted to rip her to pieces.
The bitch swapped the targets of her gun and gaze. “Bradan.” She addressed the other demon, compelling him to translate for his scummy brother.
“Shut up, bitch!” Bradan finished the insult that had been bubbling up in his chest before obediently continuing, “You make us starving. Taber found vegetables like a scummy and now he spits.” Bradan could see the clear annoyance on the bitch’s face as he cussed at her and it made him feel powerful again.
Before the bitch had shown her wretched face, the pack had been suffering from one loss after another. Their members had been dwindling, their brothers were either taken as soulless or fled to avoid the magos hunting them. Most of the magnate were gone and what remained of their pack had been in another heated argument about who would lead them now, and lead them where too. That was when the bitch made herself known. She offered protection to any demon that would accompany her on a journey she refused to reveal any further details about.
That was too much for the frazzled demons to hear: partnership and omission? Bradan couldn’t remember how many charged her, him and at least two others, because the next thing he could recall was the smell of gunpowder and the smoke growing from the pistol she shot. She hadn’t shot anyone in particular, the bullet grazed Bradan’s ear and ricocheted off the horns of one of his brothers, but the weapon’s presence alone caused the shift in status. Bradan’s scummy and lesser brothers immediately began to coo and salivate over the gun, submitting themselves to the bitch before she asked.
And she asked. More demanded, threatened. The bitch picked a few demons, waved them to follow her, and opened the chance for others to also accompany her with the request they not challenge her superiority. This included obeying any orders she gave, resisting the urge to harm her in any way, and only referring to her with titles of respect such as “sir” or “master.” This was the biggest insult. Bradan wasn’t chosen by the bitch to follow her, he was here because he refused to remain insulted to such a degree and believed he was more powerful than she was giving him credit for, more powerful than her.
Bradan flaunted his strength in another attempt to dominate her, straightening himself to his max height and looking down on the bitch. Her gun flipped to the same target as her gaze when they both swapped to the second object as it dropped to the ground. A look of annoyance and embarrassment crossed Bradan’s face as he looked over and saw Taber on his knees.
“Master, I’m starving,” Taber grumbled from the ground, “I eat vegetables if not meat.”
The bitch lowered her gun and switched it to her other hand, so it was closer to Bradan, “What have you found?”
“Root.” Taber didn’t move from his kneeling position.
The bitch began to walk past Taber, waving at him to rise, “Grab as much as you can carry. Find a bag and carry some more.”
Taber fell to both his knees and leaned all the way back, looking up at the bitch as she passed him, “I will feed, sir!”
The bitch turned around and waved at him again to get moving, “To your strength.”
“Have thanks, Master,” Taber sighed in relief then began to scramble back towards the gardens.
The bitch holstered her gun then looked up at Bradan. The silence between them was heavy as Bradan waited for her to speak first, treating it as some sort of give of power when it was anything but.
“Do you need something?” The bitch asked.
Bradan scoffed at her weakness.
The bitch narrowed her gaze, “Cease your defiance, demon. It’s so very annoying.”
“You don’t command me, bitch,” Bradan mocked.
The bitch sighed deeply. She slowly approached Bradan, her tone low and menacing as she walked, “You will show me the respect I’ve repeatedly asked from you or I will fill you so many bullets you will heal with lead in your veins.”
“That sounds strong, though.”
“Then you can fend for yourself when we leave you crippled. Do you think you’ll be strong enough when the magos come?”
Bradan’s face became flat as his mouth took the shape of a straight, thin line. Of course he was powerful enough, but he couldn’t predict to what degree the bitch was capable of damaging him, or ordering his brothers to weaken him in her stead.
“Help Taber gather the roots,” The bitch gestured towards the lesser demon with her head.
“Demons eat meat,” Bradan countered in defiance.
“Demons can and will eat vegetables,” The bitch repeated, “Have a balanced diet.”
“No one tells me what to eat,” Bradan growled.
“Then don’t eat.” The bitch answered matter-of-factly. “Help Taber gather the roots,” She said again.
“I won’t--” Bradan strained to say, the bitch’s attention having started to move off of him, taking the energy he needed to speak up with it.
“Bradan,” The bitch locked eyes with him again, “Help your brother.”
The demon rolled his eyes, “Fine, bitch--”
“Bradan,” The bitch repeated but with different energy than when she called his name before. The demon’s eyes locked with her’s and he felt unable to look away. “You will speak to me with respect or you will never open your mouth again.”
Demons didn’t need to eat. Breathing was also optional. Besides, Bradan didn’t even have a mouth, he couldn’t support one even if he wanted to. So he didn’t need to cave, he could remain strong and defy the bitch once again. Yet her gaze pierced him deep and he felt it was wrong to allow her to have the last word. He was more powerful than her, this meant nothing. She meant nothing to him.
The words felt hot and sticky as they touched Bradan’s tongue, shame built in his chest as they passed his lips, “Yes, Master.”
“Help your brother,” And when Bradan didn’t yet move, she leaned in close and whispered, “Let’s go, bitch,” before heading back into the village.
Bradan moved over to where Taber was busy pulling up the vegetables. Bradan expected the lesser demon to mock him, verbally or perhaps subtlety as he didn’t expect his scummy brother to have fully recovered from his blow out just yet. But Taber just looked up and smiled at Bradan, excited to see him interested in what the lesser demon was doing.
Bradan bared his teeth. “Moron,” He hissed, his voice straining as he used energy he didn’t have to speak.
Taber’s face fell as he remembered how he truly felt about Bradan. The two then turned to work in silence.
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Bradan gathered an armful of vegetables and stood up. “Taber,” His voice cut faintly into the air. He sounded impossibly distant, a direct consequence to the reality of his soul being set on the outskirts of the universe. The bitch had not lifted the command she had set on him, that he would not speak unless she addressed him. He now consistently struggled to acquire the strength to form thoughts to speak sentences. This was an easy feat in the past but now he was only slightly stronger than the weakest scummy.
Taber looked up at his brother, face squinting and pale from the mind-numbing work. Using only one hand to pull up vegetables, Taber pointed further into the village, “Talk to Ignus. Master put him in charge of recording resources.”
Bradan rolled his eyes but nodded and turned around to head towards the others.
“Ask him if they have found sacks to help carry,” Taber requested.
Bradan’s body shook harder than it ever had before as he forced out his next sentence, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” His body twisted and contorted as if puppeted by threadbare strings, part of him moved in ways he didn’t will it, the rest moved in ways nothing willed it. He was panting at the end of it, he’d even broken a sweat. If he had pushed any harder he was sure he would have broken free of the bitch’s command. But then he wouldn’t have a form to exact revenge.
Taber paid no mind to his brother’s victory and mocked, “Why don’t you ask Master?” Bradan had no more strength to spare and so feigned deafness as he turned from his brother and headed into the village.
He walked by smoking buildings which had begun to cool completely, his eyes casting quick, distrustful glances towards his brothers as he passed them. Most of them were scummy like Taber, having only followed the bitch because of her gun and her epic display of dominance, dumb, directionless, and easier to manipulate than clay. But Bradan knew a few of them understood where they were, the few that followed the bitch for reasons that made more sense than nonsense, and so Bradan kept his gaze loose and fluid, to avoid any recognition in his brothers’ eyes as quickly as possible.
Bradan made his way further into the village until he reached where the bitch had them set up a camp. She was talking to Rand and Bradan’s breath hitch in annoyance at the sight of his two least favorite people. The bitch was telling Rand what direction they would move at day break. The magnate carried a clay jug in one hand and held a crate under his other arm. The sight of his shaped face caused Bradan to shiver in jealousy before he remembered the truth of Rand’s situation as he looked down at the mask that hung on the bitch’s belt. Rand had been the first demon the bitch recruited on her ridiculous mission and it hadn’t been done in the benefit of both parties. While Bradan would have rather referred to Rand as a former magnate or even a lesser demon, he couldn’t deny the power Rand possessed despite being a soulless.
The bitch shifted her gaze over to Bradan who hadn’t realized he was still walking towards her until it was too late. The demon stopped in his tracks, his body waiting to obey her next command. Bradan shook off this feeling of submission but didn’t move any closer as Rand had also turned around to look at his brother. The three stood in silence for one second too long.
“Yes, Bradan?” The bitch raised an eyebrow in annoyance.
Hello, bitch. The response burned on Bradan’s tongue but, with the help of the bitch’s most recent command, the demon managed to hold himself back, “Taber requests sacks.”
The bitch looked at Rand and tilted her head towards his brother, saying Go on without saying anything at all. Rand handed the clay jug to the bitch and placed the crate on the ground. Bradan couldn’t focus on Rand pulling out a fiber sack, he couldn’t focus on him opening it for the demon to dump in the vegetables he was carrying. Bradan couldn’t get over the fact the bitch took the clay jug without question. If he had tried that, the bitch would have broken it over his head and forced him to clean up the pieces. Rand had nothing over the bitch; she had everything over him. Why was she taking even suggestions from him?
“Brother.” Rand’s voice brought Bradan back to reality. Bradan’s eyes refocused on his brother. He took a moment to register what was happening then dumped his armful of vegetables in the fiber sack Rand was holding out for him.
Bradan snatched the sack from Rand’s hands the moment he could. “Thanks, bitch,” He didn’t direct.
“Bradan.” The bitch scolded but she knew he had technically not broken any rules and so all she could do was frown.
Bradan squirmed in excitement once he realized he had actually got her. It was a small victory over the bitch but a victory nonetheless. “Taber requests more sacks.” Bradan said his brother’s name with such a sharpness that a person who didn’t speak his language would have assumed he had sworn.
But he didn’t and the bitch could think of nothing to do but turn to Rand and nod once more, “Give him the rest.”
Rand pulled out three more fiber sacks and offered them to Bradan. They were thick bags that had likely been used to carry flour and spices, ingredients that were some sort of essential for living but useless to a group of survivors. Rand seemed hesitant to give up the fiber sacks, or at least proved slightly difficult, but eventually Bradan tugged enough that his brother’s grip gave way.
Before Bradan could head back to the vegetable fields, Rand spoke up, “Are you sure you want to keep him, Master?” He spoke over his shoulder but didn’t take his eyes off of Bradan. The demon felt his body turn cold as he froze in place.
“Leave him be, Rand,” The bitch moved to be across from both demons, “He’s harmless.”
Untrue . Bradan thought but the fear running through his body also sealed his mouth shut.
“Untrue,” Echoed Rand and Bradan wasn’t sure he had ever been more afraid, “A demon like him is dangerous if left unchecked. He’s smart and aware and he may possess enough power to rival your own.”
“What power?” The bitch scoffed, “He’s done little more than whine since coming along.”
“I did say he was smart and I have no intention to retract my statement.” Rand looked to the bitch as he spoke. Brandan felt as if a weight was lifted off of him but before he could flee, “So either he’s not smart the way you think,” Rand’s gaze locked down on Bradan once again, “Or he’s smart exactly the way I think.”
The bitch smirked, “What do you suggest I do then?”
Bradan felt his instincts screaming at him to run but the powers surrounding him kept him in his place.
“Present him with an ultimatum. He must follow you unconditionally or you should take his soul by force.”
“You weren’t presented with an ultimatum,” The bitch pointed, “What is this mercy, dear demon?”
“On the contrary, Master,” A mischievous smile began to spread across Rand’s face, “Mercy would be leaving him behind.”
The bitch feigned offense, “Am I such a cruel master that a life in the wild gives one a better chance at comfort?”
“You are powerful, that is true,” Rand dodged the question, “And a demon of his caliber belongs either at your side or under your boot.”
Bradan couldn’t stand listening in silence anymore. He focused on the strength of the beings around him and compared it to the strength of his own powers. He twitched as his body shook from the force of the power he was experiencing. He grabbed on to that energy with everything he had, sinking his claws as deep as they would go, and managed to redirect that power into his next sentence, “I’ll jam my boot in your side.”
The bitch laughed suddenly, taking all of them by surprise. “Your kind is all quick witted,” She complimented, a surprisingly friendly hand touched Rand’s forearm for half a second before waving him away, “Bring Taber the bags and a box.” She pointed to Bradan, a cheeky glint in her eyes, “You will follow me.”
The bitch turned and walked away without a second glance. Rand had looked after the bitch as she left and quickly turned his attention back to Bradan. He squinted at his brother, daring him to make a move of disobedience and give the former magnate the chance to cave in his head. Bradan stood his ground, the word bitch seemed too childish for this victory and so he tossed the empty sacks into the crate on the ground and followed the bitch.
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Bradan followed the bitch to the other edge of the village where their mounts were hitched. Well, her singular mount was hitched. The bitch had rode into the demons’ life on a horse named Emmer, a well-fed black mare. Most animals hated demons and Emmer had made it perfectly clear how much she loathed her owner’s newfound thralls. Emmer pinned her ears back at Bradan’s arrival but her owner placed a comforting hand on her neck and clicked softly, “You’re fine, Emmer. He won’t do anything.” The bitch began to stroke her mount’s mane, calming her down until Emmer was content enough to just occasionally twitch her ears towards Bradan.
Munching on weeds next to this majestic animal were two donkeys found in the village. They hadn’t run off in the initial chaos or been taken with the villagers when they fled. They seemed perfectly fine with the supernatural walking amongst them and would mostly only bite for food. They weren’t mounts for anything but goods and gear and one was already plenty strapped with supplies.
“That can go on Oren,” The bitch gestured to the other donkey as she fiddled with Emmer’s saddle, “Make sure you leave room for the rest of the sacks. And make sure it’s balanced.”
Bradan nodded silently and did as he was told. Heat crept up his neck at the bitch’s command but he was extremely fatigued from the events that just transpired, and if he moved slowly he found that Oren wasn’t so bothered by his presence. He liked to pet his fur, it wasn’t very soft but it was warm and that made him feel good.
“You needn’t feel so happy,” Bradan jumped slightly at the bitch’s voice, “Oren’s too dumb to realize what you are. He won’t be bothered by your natural aura.”
“I’m happy,” Bradan said through tight teeth, with the tone of “fear me” and the subtext of “ignore me.”
The bitch scoffed in amusement. She closed the pouches on Emmer’s saddle and walked to the other side of Oren. “You can leave, Bradan,” The bitch reexplained the obvious like she was coaching a child to the solution.
Bradan’s posture loosened as he took the pose before beginning to square up, “You can try and make me.”
“I haven’t made you anything,” The bitch laughed and dropped her head into her hand. Bradan’s attention focused on the bitch laughing at him. He schemed all the awful things he would be doing to the bitch if she would only allow him to raise a hand against her.
Emmer quickly pinned her ears back again in response to the demon’s energy. She reared her legs to kick and bared her teeth if biting was necessary, whining in fright. Bradan dropped the energy he was creating in order to properly react to the new threat. The bitch was the only one who remained calm as she grabbed a hold of Emmer’s reins and pulled her back as she talked her down.
“Easy, Emmer,” The bitch hushed as she stroked her mount’s mane, “Settle. He’s not going to do anything.”
Oh, but the so many things Bradan wished he could be doing--
“Bradan.” The bitch’s voice echoed through his head, forcing him to listen to only it as it drowned out whatever that last thought was going to be. “Bradan, what do you want from me?”
Bradan’s quick answers were expected: “Your spine,” “your spleen,” “you, all you, you and you” which was all one answer. But the bitch asked the question the way he would have asked it to himself, if he could ever be in the right state of mind to organically think of such a question.
“I need a pack,” Bradan’s voice soften as it returned to its natural speaking cadence, “And if that means I have to follow around this bitch ‘cause my brothers are morons then so be it.”
There was a couple beats as the bitch took time to process Bradan’s answer, “Do you know my name, Bradan?”
“It’s not ‘bitch?’’ Bradan’s quick answer wrapped around the bitch’s command like organs finding their way back into the body.
The bitch laughed once with such pure glee it caused everyone but her who heard it to jump, “No, afraid not,” She chuckled to herself, “It’s Alba. And whether or not it means anything, I give you my full permission to take any amount of your ‘moron’ brothers and leave to start your own demon pack.”
What the fuck? For once, Bradan didn’t have any kind of cutting remark. There was nothing in his culture that was even close to this, he had no default reaction. The first pack a demon joins is their pack for life. Unless every member is killed or otherwise goes missing, a demon does not diverge from their pack. And if a demon runs into any kind of disagreement, they are neither kicked nor allowed to leave. The first pack a demon joins is their pack for their entire life.
“Hey, Bradan,” The bitch simply called out. As if she had commanded him though, but only in his reaction time, Bradan refocused his eyes as she took the energy to finish, “Go check up on Taber.”
And because it was spoken with respect, Bradan responded, “Fine, bitch.”