Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"What the Hell Abaddon!??"

The matriarch, Katherine cried. Her expression twisting and bunching in familiar distaste for the demons antics. Said demon having decided to slather squirrel blood in the form of sigils across one of the only unhaunted rooms with Esther, who was currently stammering in a panic some drivel about how they were protecting the hotel. The matriarch, however was having none such drivel today as a silent rage was fanned behind her eyes, Abaddon could almost taste it, bittersweet as it was.

"Esther, to you room."

"But mom-"

"Now."

The words where sharp, unwavering and cut through the air like a polished blade through squirrels skin. The girl grimiced, casting an almost pitying glance towards the blood drenched demon before retreating from the site of destruction, scurrying off.

Although not actively afraid of Kathrine, Abaddon often felt the urge to squirm and the nagging tug in the back of his mind to escape whenever she addressed him or his companion in such a sharp tone. The boy, as sneakily as he can manage, moving to follow suit towards the convenient vent grate with an almost upturned nose, as if he was above the tyrannical ruling of the hotel owner.

"And I shall retrurn to the vents."

"Not a chance." She hissed with such venom the deamon expected from a snake. His features scrunched in an unbarely childish fashion as Kathrine caught his wrist and yanked him away. The grip tight, unwavering and grotesquely familiar. Familiarity discarded, Abaddon attempted to pull it back with animalistic grunts as Kathrine glowered down at him. "I don't care why you did this, but I'm not entertaining it. You're in timeout then you cleaning this."

Abaddon felt his stomach twist and churn with pure rage at the thought of being confined in a ring of salt, forced to glare at a corner for as long as the matriarch deems necessary. Once again attempting to feebly pry his wrist from her ironclad hold.

"I refuse to partake in this demeaning ritual!"

"Suck it up"

"No! I shall not." Another yank.

"Yes. You will!" The matriarch's volume raised, sending a pang of bitter memories to ring and ache behind the boys eyes as the iris' flashed into that deep, ruby red. "I shall not!"

The boys teeth, although patheticlly blunt from what he used to, latched onto and sunk into Katherine's wrist. Gasping with a sharp yelp she finally released him and shoved him back with a dull thunk against the wall. Patience having finally been exhausted and temper rissen to replace it, Katherine raised her voice, loud enough to echo throughout the hollow walls of hotel.

"ENOUGH! I can't wrap my head around how Nathan put up with you!"

"REFRAIN FROM YELLING AT ME!!"

The boy roared as the earthly world seemed to halt and shake from around him. The sharp blue eyes of his vessel widening into round saurcers as dark, bitter, sour memories bubbled up into their combined consciousness. Their normally slow almost dormant heart from the copious amount of blood loss suddenly raising into a dizzyingly quick pace that rose to a ringing in his ears.

"To be fair, it wasn't that long. A few months maybe..? He was pretty nice company back then!"

The ghost unhelpfully provided, poking his head through the wall and rubbing his chin in mock thought with a nervous smile. Striding through the wall with a little raise his hands in surrender. Kathrine, still fuming with a passionate rage Abaddon would've respected if not preoccupied, turning her attention to her brother while Nathan, ever the peacekeeper, attempted to diffuse the overflown tension.

Abbadon couldn't focus, gritting his teeth and cupping his ears as the yells worsened. Despite the adults shifting the attention of their raised voices from him to eachother, Abaddon felt his chest burn with fury, agony and, pathetically, tears. The vessels contribution no doubt.

Turning away from Nathan and Katherine's childish bickering, Abbadon sunk his teeth deep into his hand. The flesh, like all corpses, tore easily as he tried to muffle the gasps and trembles of his vulnerable form

"...Abaddon, buddy? You okay..?"
His blood ran like ice at the question.

We did reveal our vulnerabilities with undue haste!

The words where soft spoken, a harsh contrast from the prior yelling, but he knew better than to be swayed. He- his vessel- his body hissed at the wenches outstretched hand as instinct prevailed. Mind foggy and eyes blinded with salt ridden tears as he scrambled for footing.

We must flee-

"Abaddon...?"

Abaddon!!

"Abaddon-!!"

The next moment passed in a blur, the deamon now staggering through the brewing storm. Fragments of glass from having thrown himself at the window like deadweight left small cuts and scrapes over his body, though those could not be nearer the bottom of list of concerns. Gathering dirt and muck over the open cuts and beneath his clipped nails as he clambers through the heavy weight of rain and mud. Thoughts, feelings and fears weighing heavy in his vessels mind as he stumbled and staggered to his only form of solace.

The lake.

Abaddon took a heavy step into the water, and another. The water gradually causing the blood to run from his body as he slipped further beneath the surface of the water. Each step drawing him closer to the bottom as water flowed, running down his throat and spilling into his lungs with the familiar burn gradually distinguished the red hot panic in his vessels mind.

Loud thoughts growing quieter, and quieter.... until... silence.

Utter. Silence.

...almost.

Close thine eyes Abbey. Please, allow mine mind to lay rest.

For what purpose. The act of resting is trivial in the grand scheme of things with how long we'll last.

...It doth provide solace when mine memory turns unkind...

Abaddon half considered the words whispered within this ears. He then half considered ignoring them, if they were asleep, who would take vigilant care of this body.

That is why we deemed the lake secure, silly demon...

Abaddon, begrudgingly, conceded. He doesn't ask for much after all.. With a deep breath of the clear water swirling around, and inside his body, the demon allowed his eyes to slip shut. His body growing more and more weightless as he slowly became less aware of his mortal form drifting higher to the surface.

Chapter Text

Each day started the same as the one prior. Rise at dawn, attend grammar school to ,,to follow in our lords footsteps of wisdom and words'' before returning home. Or to Father's sermons in the church if ti's the Sabbath, of which it was today.

He followed through the same motions. Sit up straight and listen intently to Father's prattle on the wise words and stories of their Lord, so neatly bound in leather and decorated with a cross. The same shape that hung so heavily from his neck strung together with thirty-nine beads of his rosary. Once over, he'd be lead, hand in hand to their home to bed, where he'd be tucked in, bid goodnight and the cycle shall repeat over.

The father and son sat in silence, although grateful for the bread and stew, aswell as the hands that prepared it, the boy boredly jabbed his spoon against the bottom of the bowl. His fathers eyes lifting from his own food to watch

"...Refrain from dallying with thine food, boy."

He supressed a dishonorable a groan, insead choosing to quietly slurp from the spoon. A question on his lips, burning against them like the hellfires of which he's grown to fear.

"To hesitate is perilous-"

His father provided, before his sharp features softened. Hesitating on his own question. Hypocrite, though the boy did not dwell on that thought as his father took a deep breath and spoke again.

"Pray tell, my son. What is on thy mind...?"

"....does thou ever grow... overcome with boredom, with how repetitive the days are, Father?"

His fathers lips pressed into a thin line as he straightened his back. Eyes trailing thoughtfully onto the table for a few solid moments before back up to the blue eyes of his son. Wide and piercing sharp as they patiently watched and waited for an answer.

The eyes of his mother. Although a kind woman, she traded the sin of premarital intercourse for another of taking her own life. Setting the young boy down a ruinous path of sin himself by leaving him without a caretaker. The priest, determined to correct these horrible influences took him in not long after.

Despite his firm teachings to the boy to cling to faith in their God above and, inturn, the boys attempts to stay close the the holy path, he could still feel the judgemental glares directed to the boy. Hateful lowers trained on the boy, fellow children casting him away from them, pushing, pressing, mocking and scowling.

He can tell the boy tires of the same torment fueled by heresy.

And he has always been weak to those sweet blue eyes.

"....Why don't thou venture forth to indulge in the open air?"

The boy perked up in intrest, the priest barely able to hold back a warm smile at the boys plans in the idea of breaking down the strict rules that had been set in place since he had moved in.

"Art thine certain, father? Nightfall doth approach soon-?"

"I am certain. Thou are almost a decade of age, I deem that worthy and responsible of playing till a later hour..."

The small smile on his Father's face was all the conformation the boy needed as a much giddier one graced his features. Quickly gobbling down the remainder of his dinner and bidding a brief farewell to his father. Before being caught by the arm.

"Do not stray to far. Darkness is a bad omen to embrace."

The boy nodded and his father hesitantly, hypocritical once again, released. He watched his son scurry away to the woods edge with a pinched expression. ,,Thou cannot protect him from himself forever, soon he will stray from your guidance, attempting to carve out his own path. After that, we can only pray he stays on the path of ritchousness." The priests expression tensed as a dark thought swirled in his mind and clung to it like a plauge.

,,Unlike his mother.''

Tripping over himself, the boy scrambled towards the edge of the woods. A small place of calm solace amongst unfriendly faces and glares he often faces. His worn and beloved skiprope dragged along beside him, a gift of welcome he received from father the first night of his arrival, along with his rosary. He planted his feet in place infront of the looming woods a head of him.

Settling the loop of the rope behind his feet the boy carefully swung in over his head and begain to skip, letting his mind wonder of simple pleasures of his world.

"Blackbirds, blackbirds,

Resting on a wire.

What does thou-"

Catching his foot, the boy staggered. Frowning at the uncooperative rope before his shoulders tightened with tention at the deep sound of an animalistic growl. His head snapping up to the looming thicket ahead, but finding nothing but a deepset darkness.

Unable to shake the unbareable sensation of someyhing watching him, his body shuddered and prickled with Childish fear at the discomforting dark silence ahead. ,,fear not what thy think may harm thee, for the light of our Lord shall protect against all!"

His fathers words ran over his head and mind like a cool bucket of water as he grounded himself. Settle the loop of the rope behind thy feet, swing it over thy head, and try again.

"Blackbirds, blackbirds,
Resting on a wire.
What does thou do there?
Might we inquire?"

Another growl, the boy did not faulter this time.

"Does thou just sit to see the day,
Or is thou waiting to fly away?"

"At 1,"

A thundering stomp cleaved through the silence as a large cloven hoove stepped into the boys vision

"2, 3,"

,,fear not what thy think may harm thee, for the light of our Lord shall protect against all!"

"4-"

The boy faultered, his skips stopping short as a horrid beast slunk from the darkness and towards him. Tail, or rather tails, a total of three from what the boy could see, swished and whipped behind its hulking form as it used its matching three arms to prowl closer to the boys tiny form. Each appendage bent and contoured in odd, inhuman angles and laced with thick tufts of coal black fur on each joint of its arms. Skeletal, and impossibly sharp talons sinking into the damp, muddy grass below its splintering weight.

The scrlera of its squinted eyes an inhuman inky black with slim, blood red slits as pupils watching the boys movements intently like it is stalking it's prey. Horns reminiscent of a bulls protruding from it's head of which appears shrunken against its swollen, pridely puffed out chest held up by two equally small goat-like legs.

The boy did not cower. He did not cry, nor back away, nor flee. He stared, eyes wide and glistening with fascination as he drank in the sight of the massive creature. He took a bold step forward, the beast pulling back in a twisted, almost comically ironic fashion with the contrast in sizes of the two.

He did not cower, but instead smiled.

"Father, mine fellow children continue to subject me to their cruel words."

"Lend them no heed, my son. They are simply blinded by their lack of faith in our Lord to guide thou."

"They insist that mine blue eyes peirce through and frighten them, and their parents insist apon comparing me with mine moth-"

"Please! Refrain from calling to my remembrance of that wench...."

"...."

"....Mine child. Pay them no mind. For it is sinful to judge, and insult, on appearance alone."

"....I am call'd Isaac. Who art thou?"

Chapter Text

"Was thou an angel?"

The beast, Abaddon as he'd so eloquently introduced himself, snarled a scoff. Out of which of his five mouths Isaac wasn't certain, but he tucked his hands politely infront of his chest and listened intently either way.

"What a foolish waste of a question. No."

"Father says that all demons art those who strayed too far from our lords light and plummeted from heaven?"

"Well, I am not."

Isaac hummed thoughtfully as the beast settled further into his spot, now sat back onto his haunches though still towering over the little boy. Isaac opened his mouth only to close it as the beast raised a chiding talon up and silenced him.

"My turn, take off the rosary."

"That is not a question, Abaddon.... try again?"

"Fine. Remove the rosary."

"I don't believe thou is playing this correctly..."

Isaac frowned a little with a tilt of his head. Hands restlessly wringing his worn skipping rope as the demon growled in irritation. The two of them having settled on a sort of game with back and fourth of questions for a while now. The sun having dipped beneath the clouds and used the sky as its canvas with deep reds, oranges and yellows spreading out above them.

Isaac, curious of Abaddon, had chattered away with a gleeful intrest in such a strange creature he'd never seen roam the earth. He'd learnt that the beast is a demon, sent from below in Hell to earth to cause chaos and destruction.

He'd learnt that lot's of the things his father had taught him of Hell was false with how Abaddon passionately and belovedly describes the site of it's creation. It's home.

He learnt that fellow demons were not kind to Abaddon. That he wants to prove himself to them, and all of Hell by taking power over this earth. That his favourite colour was a similar shade of gray of his button, he chose not to correct the demon in that the buttons of his shirt were a yellowish-gold, not gray.

Finally, he'd learnt that the beast could not so much as touch a tuft of his hair while he wore his cross.

All that Abaddon had asked Isaac however, if you can even consider them questions, is for him to remove said cross that hung from his neck. Something the boy had decidedly considered a bad idea with each time he imagined himself on the buisness end of the demons talons and denied each attempt. The beast slamed it's more central arms down against the firm grass on either side of the boy.

"This 'game' is pointlessly infuriating! In hell I had no reason to answer, nor ask questions!"

Isaac couldn't supress the small giggle at the beasts reaction. It so delightfully reminded Isaac of a younger child throwing a tantrum, despite the unconventional appearance. Although one isn't rectified with a beating for bad behaviour. A welcome change in his opinion.

The beasts ear flicked and twitched and eyes snapped open at the sound of the boys snickering as he sheepishly covered his mouth with his hands. A nasty glower pulling at the beasts features as he reached a hand, accented with razor-sharp claws towards the boy.

"You dare chortle at me? The Mighty Prince of the Dark Realm, Abaddon?!!"

The beasts hand only hovered over the boy however. Once again, unable to truly come into contact with the boy with that cross strung together with a handful of beads without it burning a cross shaped hole directly through it's hand.

Irritation and frustration rising, Abaddon simply roared and hissed as he retracted and slamed his hand down beside the boy. Snarling and turning away and tails whipping with fury befitting of a demon.

The force of the slam causing the boy to stagger just a little as he frowned up at Abaddon. He must be the biggest heathen in the world to see himself in the beast.

It's utter impiety. He'd be better off receiving a beating for such thoughts.

It was a demon, a horrible beast that defied any and all blind faith in the Lord above. It was brash, savage, utterly blasphemous in nature, a bad influence towards everything Isaac has been taught to not follow in the same footsteps as his mother.

Lonely.

He was lonely. They were lonely.

Perhaps they'd be better off, being lonley together.

"....mine apologies" Isaac spoke gently, taking a few gentle steps towards Abbadon. The demon in turn flicking his slitted pupils over to the boy. "....Prehaps we would be better in partaking in a different game."

Abaddon chuffed a puff of air from his snout but decided to humor the boy. Out of mere pity. Nothing more...

"....what did you have in mind?"

"Hm... Prehaps we can skip together! Art thou acquainted with the game of skipping rope, Abaddon?"

"Is that why you were chanting rhymes? To jump over a length of rope to them?"

"Indeed!"

Isaac, enthusiasticly held his rope out towards the towering beast. Holding that pose for a few beats until a flash of realisation hit him. Sheepishly setting it on the ground for Abaddon to pick up without getting burned from brining it's hand too close to the boy.

Abaddon pinched it between two claws at lifted it just ahead of himself, the long, tough rope looking nothing more than a fail peice of string against the demons form. Although hard to read with the extra facial features, Isaac could feel the unimpressed, deadpan expression on the others face.

"I believe it to be too small... And trivial."

"Well, I do not see thou contemplating any other notions of games."

The boy huffed crossing his arms and frowning, pouting really. The look softened as Abaddon set his skipping rope back onto the grass, allowing the boy to gather it back up into his arms before slinking closer to him like an all to familiar serpent. A matching frown on the demons mouths.

"I do have a game! It's just you refuse to play without removing that wretched rosary..."

The boy hesitated, looking up into the red slits that deeply contrasted against his blue eyes. Trying not to stare at the tails brushing around the grass behind him, trying to coax him closer without any true contact.

".....What does thine game entail...?"

"It's.... Well, it's a simple game of pretend... You discard of the rosary and I shall bring you all the joy and fun you crave compared to how you go about your dreadfully dreary life of yours...."

Isaac swallowed, and icy chill crawling up his back as his hands nervously wrung at his shirt. Looking all to conflicted as the brightness of the long summer day swiftly dipped beneath the horizon. The boys words drying in his throat before returning with a feeble wobble of nervousness. A cruel twist of fate that asking this frightens him more than simply being face to face with such a blasphemous beast.

"If I play.... Will thou be mine friend...?"

"....I shall remain your ally until the end of time, Isaac."

...

"May I call thee Abbey?"

The boy barely supressed an amused grin at how the demons snout bunched up in distaste for the fond sobriquet.

"Thine name is nice, but demanding and heavy on mine tounge."

A small price to pay from dignity in return for an internal ally.

"....Fine. "

Isaac didn't supress his grin this time. His hands, although shaking with nerves, raised to his neck. Gripping his Anglican rosary and gently lifting it over his face and crown of his skull. Eyes never breaking away from the beasts as he brief tightened his hold before letting it fall and clatter against the dew laced grass.

Abaddon pounced before the cross had even hit the ground. Sending a nauseating swirl of dizziness throughout both of their minds as the demon forced himself into the boys conscious. Isaacs eyes rolling back as his body twitched and fought fruitlessly against the sudden, inhuman intrusion on his mind. A trembling gasp rising up his throat as his muscles tensed and jerked.

When Isaacs vision returned to him, everything felt... wonky. Not wrong or bad, not as much as he was expecting at least, but just hazy, glossy, off. As if he was watching his life from an outsiders perspective. Which, he was. ...Abbey...?

He watched through his eyes as his gaze fell downward, as his hands and digits experimentally flexed and tensed despite not having given any command for himself to do so.

ABADDON!!

He watched as his hands moved up to cup over his ears as the corner of his eyes warbbled with an indescribable sensation beyond his mortal form

"I can hear you! Theres no need to shriek!"

He- Abaddon? hissed a whisper beneath his breath at Isaac, previously prepubescent voice now carrying a heavy, unnatural deepness to it. Mind still reeling and aching from accompanying one too many consciousnesses than normal as Abaddon attempted to straighten up again.

What- what is this-?! What trickery and mischief is this- What hast thou done-??

The demon hummed dismissively, stumbling upright like a newborn deer at suddenly thrusting itself into a much weaker and uncoordinated form. A slight, sharp grin tentatively twitching up onto his the boys lips with an experimental tug. An unnatural imitation of Isaacs normal expression.

Delightfully devilish schemes and plots brewing in their shared mind now that the beast was confidently disguised. The demon puppeteered Isaacs arms to wrap tight around his own body.

"This is the game! I promise you, amicus meus, with our combined power and might, we shall reak havoc upon this miserable town!"

I- I am apprehensive Abaddon-

"Abbey. I permit you to refer to me as Abbey."

....But-

"As a symbol of our alliance, remember."

....-

The demons expression bunched and twisted. The viscous, bittersweet taste of fear wrapping around and coating the boys tounge with a thick film.

"...Isaac. I swear, this alliance means more to me than you shall ever know. While I am in this body, I will take great heed in protecting it."

....Alright, Abbey.-