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Description
Autumn ~1898~

The fruit that grew on the tree was known throughout the land for its magical gift, and that is why it only grew in one place - the Demon’s garden.

The Demon, that guarded the fruit, was said to be a fallen angel, and before being cast to Earth for his wicked sins that he committed, not only against the Gods, but humans likewise, stole the fruit to tempt those that he would rule over.

There were tales that if one was to eat the fruit, they would cure any sickness that had befallen them. If the tales, that spread like wildfire across the land, were true, it would only take moments before you would be as spry as a spring chicken.

There was a problem, as there would be with any sacred fruit that came with such fame.

The Demon refused to let anyone partake in the special fruit, unless they could barter something in return, of course. Then, if you were lucky enough, he might just listen to your trade, and let you take the fruit. That would only happen if you were fortunate enough to not be killed by him before you had a chance to utter a single word.

Of course, there were people that had nothing to trade, and would try to steal the fruit. He, like the Gods that had harbored the fruit before, knew of the power it contained. They also knew that illness and death, in the long run, were meant to keep the humans in numbers that could be controlled - since they are part of the human condition. If fortunate enough, a human could buy a few more years on land, but the latter of the two of the human condition would come for them.

For someone that had something to lose, to watch the fruit drop to the ground and rot, it was sheer lunacy that he wouldn’t share.

As the Demon knew, like humans, kindness is for beggars and fools- he was neither, and refused to be known as such.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Above, a flock of geese honked in a uniform pattern, before dwindling into black specks behind the mountainous trees.

Narrowing your eyes, you stared at the building that rested far back behind the gates. The building was massive, with a looming frame, that rested against a yellow and pink clouded sky of Autumn.

You had been told stories about that house, which rested beyond the gates, was one that housed the dangerous Demon that plagued your land. The stories that you were told, deterred you, and many others to avoid the house, and the Demon within. Though, years had made him dormant, apart from those that dared to take what was his, and would, yet again, stir his anger.

Wrapping your hands around the sun-warmed metal, that was cooling quickly, you knew why you had to do this.

Those that dared to rob the house had never been seen from again. Those that were blessed enough to escape, would recap the demonic beast that had tried to rip them to shreds. You had thought it silly to tempt something that was known as deadly as this demon, but yet, here you now stood without many other options.

Years had passed since the Demon demanded anything from the village below that had been under his control. Time had passed, and the village did, too. Although, the people knew what raw power he could unleash, and never forgot it. From the time a child could learn to walk and talk, they were warned about the Demon, and what would happen to them if they tempted fate.

Nightmares were real in your village, and the Demon made sure no one would forget, no matter the passage of time.

Giving another shake to the wrought-iron gate, your hands bunched tighter as it only rattled from its steadfast place. There was no way of entering the easy way, and that was to be expected.

There the fruit tree sat, mocking you, and anyone with the hopes of avoiding the inevitable. Even a metal gate, or an evil creature behind those gates, wouldn’t stop you. Taking a step back, you surveyed the fence, and if it would really be a difficult climb.

People had managed to climb over the gate, and grab a single fruit, without even being caught. If they could do it, so could you, because you had faith on your side.

Bringing the cap, that rested on your head further down, to shield your face from the blinding twilight, you knew why you needed to do this. There wasn’t room for error, nor was there room for trade. Kneeling down, you tucked in the slack of your pants, that were a bit too snug, into the tops of your shoes. Fixing the scarf around your neck, you tucked the ends into your shirt, contemplating your own death it caught.

Raising a foot, you found a solid hold with the crisscrossed bars, and lifted yourself up. Struggling to hold yourself up, moving hand over hand, you reached higher to the sharp spikes that lined across. Holding your breath, you wanted to brush away the drops of sweat that rolled down the side of your face, but feared to move your hands from their places. In spite of the chill that overtook the evening air, you felt like the sun was beating down like mid-afternoon in August.

Slowly, you lifted one leg over the other side, straddling the fence, and praying to the Gods above, that you wouldn’t impale yourself, and be found in the morning. You remained silent as you managed to get your other leg to the opposite side, although you struggled to find the foothold, and lost your grip.

Reaching for the fence, you slid down, your scarf snagging on one of the sharp tips, and unraveled from your neck. Landing hard on the ground, you groaned, and blew on your hands that burned like fire, and on your palms were large, raw gashes. Looking up, you watched your scarf blow in the wind, like a makeshift flag, as if you claimed your mark by overcoming your first obstacle.

Rubbing your hands on your pants, you cursed yourself for being so clumsy. And, although, your hands hurt like Hell itself, you didn’t falter from your task.

Walking surefooted on the worn path to the tree, you were on guard, but the yard was calm, and almost, too peaceful. Passing a dozen odd looking beasts of stone, that lined the path, you felt your heart thump wildly, like a tribal drum.

Reaching your hand to the tree, the hairs on your arm prickled at the drop in temperature around you, and you gulped. Your hand wrapped around the fruit, and you yanked a single piece, holding it tightly in your grip. The smooth skin was velvety to the touch, and it was a mix of red colours, like that of a perfect sunset on the horizon of the ocean.

“Ah, foolish young boy,” something spoke behind you. “You’ll wish you hadn’t done that.”

Running, you held the fruit close to your chest, as it was the most precious item to you - and it was literally life and death.

In a split second, you were on your back, dazed and confused. You gasped for air, staring at the purple sky above, as a great weight born down on your chest. Rolling to your side, you leaned on your forearms, trying to pull yourself up. The fruit rolled from your hand, onto the grass, stopping inches from you.

Your hand moved towards the fruit, but pulled back quickly, when it was snatched away from your grasp.

On bended knee, the demon’s lips pressed tightly together in a grin, those lips parted and he spoke, “have you risked your life for another, or yourself?” He chuckled, and rose to his full height before you.

Your eyes widen at the demon before you. His black horns curled down behind his ears, like thick, twisting roots, mingling with blond hair. His leathery black wings, although pressed against his back, looked huge and powerful. He crossed his arms, with fruit still clutch in hand, waiting patiently for your answer.

Sitting back on your knees, you leaned on your hands, gasping for breath. Staggering to your unsteady feet, you felt as if you would collapse in front of him again. Your throat burned like fire, and your mind buzzed like a million angry hornets.

“Answer me,” he said, the slightest tinge of irritation in his voice.

Your jaw trembled at the thing before you, and you finally found your voice, but it was hoarse. “I came…” you said on an uneasy breath, leaning against one of the stone creatures for support. You meet his violet eyes, that narrowed at you suspiciously. Leaning forward, resting your hands on your knees, you dared yourself to run again, but found his looming figure moving closer to you. If you did run, he would be able to snatch you, and break you in half.

“You came to steal from me, boy?”

You looked up and nodded. “I did, Demon. I did...” you said, pulling your hat from your head, “...to save my fiance.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking in the new information, slowly processing it. “Ah, you’re a local girl from the village, then?” He carelessly tossed the fruit in the air, catching it again with his hand. “You fooled me, da? I was about to kill you, but under the new circumstances, I might like you to live.”

“Please…” you pleaded, your eyes following the fruit that sailed into the air like a toy ball. Your breath hitched that he could be so careless with something so precious, but yet, when he had nothing to lose. “...I’ve nothing to give you.”

“I would suspect you don’t,” he said with a chuckle, and eyed the fruit in his hand. “A proper lady would have come dressed in her finest, not like a beggar child. Ah, but humans are nothing more than a bunch of worthless beggars, proper or not.”

“I love my fiance,” you said, cupping your hands together, begging him. You were ready to grovel on bended knee, if that's what it took.

He laughed again, holding the fruit closer to him. “Do you now? And, my dear lady, that dresses like a boy, does he feels the same about you?”

“He does,” you said, nodding fiercely. “He’s been sick for so long, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to make him better.”

“Really?” he mused to your answer. “You give your own life up, so that he may live?”

You didn’t need to think of the answer, and blurted out a ‘yes’.

“What is your name, Lady-boy?” he said, and outstretched his hand with the fruit in it, taunting you.

“(f/n),” you said, reaching for the object.

He pulled back, before you could snatch it away. “Then, if he gets better, he will love you even more, because you saved his life, correct?”

You stared into his eyes that looked kind, and to an impossible degree, soulful. If you hadn’t known better, you’d have sworn that you were before another human, one that didn’t have a past like his. “I’m sure,” you finally said. “He asked me to come here, because it’s the only way to save his life.”

“Then, I cannot stand in the way of love,” he said with a naive innocent, handing over the fruit. “But, this fruit comes with a price, (f/n).”

You gulped, holding onto the item in your hand. “What is that?”

“If your fiance does love you, like you claim, I require nothing,” he said with an even tone. “Now, if your fiance does not, like I assume, I ask you to come back here on the first snowfall of the year.”

“How…”

“...will I know?” he asked, moving closer to you. He snatched your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your face up to meet his suddenly hateful gaze. “I will come to find out, and if your fiance does leave you, and you forget to come back, I will find you.”

“You’ll find me?” you asked, your voice was as equally as shakily as your body.

“Da,” he replied, “and personally, I wouldn’t want me to find me, Lady-boy.” His lips formed a compelling smile, raising his cheeks high, almost childlike. Slowly, he moved his hand away from your face, letting his arms, once again, cross over his chest.

Holding the fruit close to your body with one hand, you did not worry that you have to come back here. It was an easy bet, because you had no doubt that your fiance loved you. Stretching out your free hand, you let him take it. “It’s a deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Winter ~1899~

A chilly wind whipped your face, and another icy slap contacted with your cheek. The cold felt good on your heated cheeks as you walked towards the Demon’s house, downtrodden and alone. Just a single, cloth bag, the handle twisted around your hand a dozen times, to avoid it having snatched when walking the streets alone.

Having nowhere to go, finding the shelter you were going to end up at, better than sleeping on the streets. It wasn’t uncommon for the homeless to end frozen husks of flesh by morning when the weather turned cold. Still, you had to wonder, what the demon would do to you. Yet, to abandon everything from your family to your job, to find out what darkness waited, was painful in both mind and body.

Closing your eyes, you rested your forehead against the chilled wrought-iron gate, and replayed the hours before in your mind. It seemed unreal, because it wasn’t possible to be tossed to the side like trash, after you risked your life for someone you loved.

”But...Johnathon,” you voice quivered, and you smashed your hands into your bare tights. Pulling the blanket up, to hide yourself and your anguish, and you could feel the emotion from down below in the pit of your belly. “Don’t you understand that if you don’t love me,” you wailed, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.

“Just get dressed,” he hissed, and grabbed his pants off the floor. “Sadly, it was your choice to make a deal with a demon, not mine.”

“I did it for you!”

“Well, if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have let you…”

“Die,” you spoke the word out loud, and it tasted as foul as it was to say. How could someone you love do this to you? Shutting your eyes tightly, you fought the tears that wanted to break free.

“You did make it,” a voice cooed from the other side of the gate. “And just as the first snowfall starts.”

Lifting your head, you took a step back, and watched him turn a key slowly in the lock, and pull open the gate with ease.

“Do come in, lady-boy,” he said, taking a step to the side to let you pass first. “Ah, but I see you’re wearing a dress - rags, but still a dress, nonetheless. Do not tell me that you did all this for me!”

“I work at one of the factories in the village,” you muttered, fixing your collar of your jacket around your neck to shield from the icy blast of air. “It’s easier to wear pants so they do not get caught in the machines.”

He followed close behind you as you both walked up the paved path to the house before you. You never thought that you’d experience walking to the gallows, but yet, here you were, and being led by a cruel hangman that this village had ever seen.

“I see,” he said, but didn’t seem particularly interested in what you had to say. “So, I did guess correctly about your fiance not loving you?”

Stopping in mid-step, you found your body rigid at the mention of your fiance. You knew why you had to come here, and that wasn’t a mystery, but why would anyone find pleasure in another’s torment? Yet, you really didn’t have to ask why something like him would find happiness in something like that. You nodded your head, being all you could do from crying again. He gently placed his hand in the middle of your back, urging you forward and up the steps.

“Don’t make it a habit of stopping when someone is behind you,” he said, guiding you up the steps. “You’ll find that it can be quite dangerous.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking to the ground.

He mumbled, and moved passed you, and pulled another key out and unlocked the front doors. He hadn’t went that far, yet he locked the doors? That was certainly odd to you, although anything a demon did was, no doubt, going to be odd.

“Do you live here alone?” you asked, finding a strange sense of relief when the doors were pushed open, and brightly lit room greeted you, and a roaring fireplace in the corner.

“Alone?” he questioned, as if your word was foreign to him. “You’re here.”

Watching him like a hawk, he moved towards the fire, and grabbed a metal stick from the wall, pushing the wood around. Unwrapping the cloth strap from around your hand, you sat your bag on the floor, looking around at the gold that glittered.

“Come to the fire,” he said, motioning you with a finger. He knelt in front of the fireplace, slowly stirring the glowing embers. As you took a step forward, his wings suddenly fluttered open, and he sighed in relief as the stiff muscles popped. “Much better now. I was napping in my chair,” he said, curtly nodding his head towards the large chair across from him. A blanket crumpled on the floor and a book casually resting on the arm. “Although, I knew you would be here sooner than later.”

He stood, and you took in his full height once again, every inch of him was an intimidating demon. He was a powerful looking creature, and he made no attempt to hide that fact.

“Would you like to take a seat?” he asked, moving towards his chair. He took his own offering and sat down, growling lowly until he found a comfortable position. “You do not seem to fear me, Lady-boy, why is that?”

“I’m scared beyond belief,” you said, moving towards the fire. “I haven’t a choice, but to be here, do I?” you asked, raising your hands towards the fire, rubbing them together to find relief from the painful numbness.

He smiled, neatly placed one leg over the other, and leaned back in the chair, watching you. Angling his body, he stretched his wings out, letting them spill over the sides of the chair. “Do you not have a family? Mother? Father?”

“I do,” you said, licking your lips and lowering your head, that suddenly felt like it was tied to a brick. “My mother begged me not to come here. She told me they would find something to trade for my freedom, but…”

“Much like you, they have nothing I would want,” he said, unamused with your tale. “Your father?”

“He is, if not more, upset by this than my mother. They haven’t told my younger brother or sister yet.” The features you wore remained façade, even if you wanted to break like glass tossed into the fire. “I’m sure they’ll understand, I mean, I hope they do. I love them very much.”

Something finally moved his immobile face, and he nodded, picking the book up from the arm of the chair. “Ah, I understand, but I wonder why?” He eyes scanned the page until he found the place where he left off, and began to read again.

Turning, you tilted your head at him, unsure of why he didn’t doing anything. You thought that he would rip your limbs from their sockets, or bite the tips of your fingers off. But here he sat, seeming completely uninterested with you even being in the room. It was as if you were always here, like a coat rack or rug, and that was all.

“Mr. Ivan?” a voice questioned from the hallway. You peered into the shadows, but saw nothing, and that alone was enough to scare you.

“Toris, do you have my tea ready for Lady-boy? I’m sure she is thirsty.”

“That I do!” Out scrambled a strange creature, and you gulped, moving towards the wall. The creature's two little cloven-hoof feet clicked on the marble floor, and it came over to you, holding a tray with cups on it. The little thing was maybe four feet tall, and covered in a thick, brown fur. “A cup for Lady-boy?” he asked, raising the tray above his head.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a cup from the tray.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said and smiled at you. “You’re very welcome, Lady-boy!”

“You can call me (f/n),” you said, taking a sip of the hot tea, “not Lady-boy.”

“He’ll call you what I tell him, too,” the now named demon said looking up from his book. “Toris, you may leave, and take Lady-boy with you.”

Biting your bottom lip, you sat the cup back on the tray. “What do you plan on doing with me?” It was a foolish want to know what Hell waited for you within these walls.

“Well, that I haven’t decided yet,” he said, with such innocent, his motives could be considered unknown, yet you knew better. “When I figure it out, Lady-boy, you’ll be the first to know.”

Description
Autumn ~1898~

The fruit that grew on the tree was known throughout the land for its magical gift, and that is why it only grew in one place - the Demon’s garden.

The Demon, that guarded the fruit, was said to be a fallen angel, and before being cast to Earth for his wicked sins that he committed, not only against the Gods, but humans likewise, stole the fruit to tempt those that he would rule over.

There were tales that if one was to eat the fruit, they would cure any sickness that had befallen them. If the tales, that spread like wildfire across the land, were true, it would only take moments before you would be as spry as a spring chicken.

There was a problem, as there would be with any sacred fruit that came with such fame.

The Demon refused to let anyone partake in the special fruit, unless they could barter something in return, of course. Then, if you were lucky enough, he might just listen to your trade, and let you take the fruit. That would only happen if you were fortunate enough to not be killed by him before you had a chance to utter a single word.

Of course, there were people that had nothing to trade, and would try to steal the fruit. He, like the Gods that had harbored the fruit before, knew of the power it contained. They also knew that illness and death, in the long run, were meant to keep the humans in numbers that could be controlled - since they are part of the human condition. If fortunate enough, a human could buy a few more years on land, but the latter of the two of the human condition would come for them.

For someone that had something to lose, to watch the fruit drop to the ground and rot, it was sheer lunacy that he wouldn’t share.

As the Demon knew, like humans, kindness is for beggars and fools- he was neither, and refused to be known as such.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Above, a flock of geese honked in a uniform pattern, before dwindling into black specks behind the mountainous trees.

Narrowing your eyes, you stared at the building that rested far back behind the gates. The building was massive, with a looming frame, that rested against a yellow and pink clouded sky of Autumn.

You had been told stories about that house, which rested beyond the gates, was one that housed the dangerous Demon that plagued your land. The stories that you were told, deterred you, and many others to avoid the house, and the Demon within. Though, years had made him dormant, apart from those that dared to take what was his, and would, yet again, stir his anger.

Wrapping your hands around the sun-warmed metal, that was cooling quickly, you knew why you had to do this.

Those that dared to rob the house had never been seen from again. Those that were blessed enough to escape, would recap the demonic beast that had tried to rip them to shreds. You had thought it silly to tempt something that was known as deadly as this demon, but yet, here you now stood without many other options.

Years had passed since the Demon demanded anything from the village below that had been under his control. Time had passed, and the village did, too. Although, the people knew what raw power he could unleash, and never forgot it. From the time a child could learn to walk and talk, they were warned about the Demon, and what would happen to them if they tempted fate.

Nightmares were real in your village, and the Demon made sure no one would forget, no matter the passage of time.

Giving another shake to the wrought-iron gate, your hands bunched tighter as it only rattled from its steadfast place. There was no way of entering the easy way, and that was to be expected.

There the fruit tree sat, mocking you, and anyone with the hopes of avoiding the inevitable. Even a metal gate, or an evil creature behind those gates, wouldn’t stop you. Taking a step back, you surveyed the fence, and if it would really be a difficult climb.

People had managed to climb over the gate, and grab a single fruit, without even being caught. If they could do it, so could you, because you had faith on your side.

Bringing the cap, that rested on your head further down, to shield your face from the blinding twilight, you knew why you needed to do this. There wasn’t room for error, nor was there room for trade. Kneeling down, you tucked in the slack of your pants, that were a bit too snug, into the tops of your shoes. Fixing the scarf around your neck, you tucked the ends into your shirt, contemplating your own death it caught.

Raising a foot, you found a solid hold with the crisscrossed bars, and lifted yourself up. Struggling to hold yourself up, moving hand over hand, you reached higher to the sharp spikes that lined across. Holding your breath, you wanted to brush away the drops of sweat that rolled down the side of your face, but feared to move your hands from their places. In spite of the chill that overtook the evening air, you felt like the sun was beating down like mid-afternoon in August.

Slowly, you lifted one leg over the other side, straddling the fence, and praying to the Gods above, that you wouldn’t impale yourself, and be found in the morning. You remained silent as you managed to get your other leg to the opposite side, although you struggled to find the foothold, and lost your grip.

Reaching for the fence, you slid down, your scarf snagging on one of the sharp tips, and unraveled from your neck. Landing hard on the ground, you groaned, and blew on your hands that burned like fire, and on your palms were large, raw gashes. Looking up, you watched your scarf blow in the wind, like a makeshift flag, as if you claimed your mark by overcoming your first obstacle.

Rubbing your hands on your pants, you cursed yourself for being so clumsy. And, although, your hands hurt like Hell itself, you didn’t falter from your task.

Walking surefooted on the worn path to the tree, you were on guard, but the yard was calm, and almost, too peaceful. Passing a dozen odd looking beasts of stone, that lined the path, you felt your heart thump wildly, like a tribal drum.

Reaching your hand to the tree, the hairs on your arm prickled at the drop in temperature around you, and you gulped. Your hand wrapped around the fruit, and you yanked a single piece, holding it tightly in your grip. The smooth skin was velvety to the touch, and it was a mix of red colours, like that of a perfect sunset on the horizon of the ocean.

“Ah, foolish young boy,” something spoke behind you. “You’ll wish you hadn’t done that.”

Running, you held the fruit close to your chest, as it was the most precious item to you - and it was literally life and death.

In a split second, you were on your back, dazed and confused. You gasped for air, staring at the purple sky above, as a great weight born down on your chest. Rolling to your side, you leaned on your forearms, trying to pull yourself up. The fruit rolled from your hand, onto the grass, stopping inches from you.

Your hand moved towards the fruit, but pulled back quickly, when it was snatched away from your grasp.

On bended knee, the demon’s lips pressed tightly together in a grin, those lips parted and he spoke, “have you risked your life for another, or yourself?” He chuckled, and rose to his full height before you.

Your eyes widen at the demon before you. His black horns curled down behind his ears, like thick, twisting roots, mingling with blond hair. His leathery black wings, although pressed against his back, looked huge and powerful. He crossed his arms, with fruit still clutch in hand, waiting patiently for your answer.

Sitting back on your knees, you leaned on your hands, gasping for breath. Staggering to your unsteady feet, you felt as if you would collapse in front of him again. Your throat burned like fire, and your mind buzzed like a million angry hornets.

“Answer me,” he said, the slightest tinge of irritation in his voice.

Your jaw trembled at the thing before you, and you finally found your voice, but it was hoarse. “I came…” you said on an uneasy breath, leaning against one of the stone creatures for support. You meet his violet eyes, that narrowed at you suspiciously. Leaning forward, resting your hands on your knees, you dared yourself to run again, but found his looming figure moving closer to you. If you did run, he would be able to snatch you, and break you in half.

“You came to steal from me, boy?”

You looked up and nodded. “I did, Demon. I did...” you said, pulling your hat from your head, “...to save my fiance.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking in the new information, slowly processing it. “Ah, you’re a local girl from the village, then?” He carelessly tossed the fruit in the air, catching it again with his hand. “You fooled me, da? I was about to kill you, but under the new circumstances, I might like you to live.”

“Please…” you pleaded, your eyes following the fruit that sailed into the air like a toy ball. Your breath hitched that he could be so careless with something so precious, but yet, when he had nothing to lose. “...I’ve nothing to give you.”

“I would suspect you don’t,” he said with a chuckle, and eyed the fruit in his hand. “A proper lady would have come dressed in her finest, not like a beggar child. Ah, but humans are nothing more than a bunch of worthless beggars, proper or not.”

“I love my fiance,” you said, cupping your hands together, begging him. You were ready to grovel on bended knee, if that's what it took.

He laughed again, holding the fruit closer to him. “Do you now? And, my dear lady, that dresses like a boy, does he feels the same about you?”

“He does,” you said, nodding fiercely. “He’s been sick for so long, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to make him better.”

“Really?” he mused to your answer. “You give your own life up, so that he may live?”

You didn’t need to think of the answer, and blurted out a ‘yes’.

“What is your name, Lady-boy?” he said, and outstretched his hand with the fruit in it, taunting you.

“(f/n),” you said, reaching for the object.

He pulled back, before you could snatch it away. “Then, if he gets better, he will love you even more, because you saved his life, correct?”

You stared into his eyes that looked kind, and to an impossible degree, soulful. If you hadn’t known better, you’d have sworn that you were before another human, one that didn’t have a past like his. “I’m sure,” you finally said. “He asked me to come here, because it’s the only way to save his life.”

“Then, I cannot stand in the way of love,” he said with a naive innocent, handing over the fruit. “But, this fruit comes with a price, (f/n).”

You gulped, holding onto the item in your hand. “What is that?”

“If your fiance does love you, like you claim, I require nothing,” he said with an even tone. “Now, if your fiance does not, like I assume, I ask you to come back here on the first snowfall of the year.”

“How…”

“...will I know?” he asked, moving closer to you. He snatched your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your face up to meet his suddenly hateful gaze. “I will come to find out, and if your fiance does leave you, and you forget to come back, I will find you.”

“You’ll find me?” you asked, your voice was as equally as shakily as your body.

“Da,” he replied, “and personally, I wouldn’t want me to find me, Lady-boy.” His lips formed a compelling smile, raising his cheeks high, almost childlike. Slowly, he moved his hand away from your face, letting his arms, once again, cross over his chest.

Holding the fruit close to your body with one hand, you did not worry that you have to come back here. It was an easy bet, because you had no doubt that your fiance loved you. Stretching out your free hand, you let him take it. “It’s a deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Winter ~1899~

A chilly wind whipped your face, and another icy slap contacted with your cheek. The cold felt good on your heated cheeks as you walked towards the Demon’s house, downtrodden and alone. Just a single, cloth bag, the handle twisted around your hand a dozen times, to avoid it having snatched when walking the streets alone.

Having nowhere to go, finding the shelter you were going to end up at, better than sleeping on the streets. It wasn’t uncommon for the homeless to end frozen husks of flesh by morning when the weather turned cold. Still, you had to wonder, what the demon would do to you. Yet, to abandon everything from your family to your job, to find out what darkness waited, was painful in both mind and body.

Closing your eyes, you rested your forehead against the chilled wrought-iron gate, and replayed the hours before in your mind. It seemed unreal, because it wasn’t possible to be tossed to the side like trash, after you risked your life for someone you loved.

”But...Johnathon,” you voice quivered, and you smashed your hands into your bare tights. Pulling the blanket up, to hide yourself and your anguish, and you could feel the emotion from down below in the pit of your belly. “Don’t you understand that if you don’t love me,” you wailed, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.

“Just get dressed,” he hissed, and grabbed his pants off the floor. “Sadly, it was your choice to make a deal with a demon, not mine.”

“I did it for you!”

“Well, if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have let you…”

“Die,” you spoke the word out loud, and it tasted as foul as it was to say. How could someone you love do this to you? Shutting your eyes tightly, you fought the tears that wanted to break free.

“You did make it,” a voice cooed from the other side of the gate. “And just as the first snowfall starts.”

Lifting your head, you took a step back, and watched him turn a key slowly in the lock, and pull open the gate with ease.

“Do come in, lady-boy,” he said, taking a step to the side to let you pass first. “Ah, but I see you’re wearing a dress - rags, but still a dress, nonetheless. Do not tell me that you did all this for me!”

“I work at one of the factories in the village,” you muttered, fixing your collar of your jacket around your neck to shield from the icy blast of air. “It’s easier to wear pants so they do not get caught in the machines.”

He followed close behind you as you both walked up the paved path to the house before you. You never thought that you’d experience walking to the gallows, but yet, here you were, and being led by a cruel hangman that this village had ever seen.

“I see,” he said, but didn’t seem particularly interested in what you had to say. “So, I did guess correctly about your fiance not loving you?”

Stopping in mid-step, you found your body rigid at the mention of your fiance. You knew why you had to come here, and that wasn’t a mystery, but why would anyone find pleasure in another’s torment? Yet, you really didn’t have to ask why something like him would find happiness in something like that. You nodded your head, being all you could do from crying again. He gently placed his hand in the middle of your back, urging you forward and up the steps.

“Don’t make it a habit of stopping when someone is behind you,” he said, guiding you up the steps. “You’ll find that it can be quite dangerous.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking to the ground.

He mumbled, and moved passed you, and pulled another key out and unlocked the front doors. He hadn’t went that far, yet he locked the doors? That was certainly odd to you, although anything a demon did was, no doubt, going to be odd.

“Do you live here alone?” you asked, finding a strange sense of relief when the doors were pushed open, and brightly lit room greeted you, and a roaring fireplace in the corner.

“Alone?” he questioned, as if your word was foreign to him. “You’re here.”

Watching him like a hawk, he moved towards the fire, and grabbed a metal stick from the wall, pushing the wood around. Unwrapping the cloth strap from around your hand, you sat your bag on the floor, looking around at the gold that glittered.

“Come to the fire,” he said, motioning you with a finger. He knelt in front of the fireplace, slowly stirring the glowing embers. As you took a step forward, his wings suddenly fluttered open, and he sighed in relief as the stiff muscles popped. “Much better now. I was napping in my chair,” he said, curtly nodding his head towards the large chair across from him. A blanket crumpled on the floor and a book casually resting on the arm. “Although, I knew you would be here sooner than later.”

He stood, and you took in his full height once again, every inch of him was an intimidating demon. He was a powerful looking creature, and he made no attempt to hide that fact.

“Would you like to take a seat?” he asked, moving towards his chair. He took his own offering and sat down, growling lowly until he found a comfortable position. “You do not seem to fear me, Lady-boy, why is that?”

“I’m scared beyond belief,” you said, moving towards the fire. “I haven’t a choice, but to be here, do I?” you asked, raising your hands towards the fire, rubbing them together to find relief from the painful numbness.

He smiled, neatly placed one leg over the other, and leaned back in the chair, watching you. Angling his body, he stretched his wings out, letting them spill over the sides of the chair. “Do you not have a family? Mother? Father?”

“I do,” you said, licking your lips and lowering your head, that suddenly felt like it was tied to a brick. “My mother begged me not to come here. She told me they would find something to trade for my freedom, but…”

“Much like you, they have nothing I would want,” he said, unamused with your tale. “Your father?”

“He is, if not more, upset by this than my mother. They haven’t told my younger brother or sister yet.” The features you wore remained façade, even if you wanted to break like glass tossed into the fire. “I’m sure they’ll understand, I mean, I hope they do. I love them very much.”

Something finally moved his immobile face, and he nodded, picking the book up from the arm of the chair. “Ah, I understand, but I wonder why?” He eyes scanned the page until he found the place where he left off, and began to read again.

Turning, you tilted your head at him, unsure of why he didn’t doing anything. You thought that he would rip your limbs from their sockets, or bite the tips of your fingers off. But here he sat, seeming completely uninterested with you even being in the room. It was as if you were always here, like a coat rack or rug, and that was all.

“Mr. Ivan?” a voice questioned from the hallway. You peered into the shadows, but saw nothing, and that alone was enough to scare you.

“Toris, do you have my tea ready for Lady-boy? I’m sure she is thirsty.”

“That I do!” Out scrambled a strange creature, and you gulped, moving towards the wall. The creature's two little cloven-hoof feet clicked on the marble floor, and it came over to you, holding a tray with cups on it. The little thing was maybe four feet tall, and covered in a thick, brown fur. “A cup for Lady-boy?” he asked, raising the tray above his head.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a cup from the tray.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said and smiled at you. “You’re very welcome, Lady-boy!”

“You can call me (f/n),” you said, taking a sip of the hot tea, “not Lady-boy.”

“He’ll call you what I tell him, too,” the now named demon said looking up from his book. “Toris, you may leave, and take Lady-boy with you.”

Biting your bottom lip, you sat the cup back on the tray. “What do you plan on doing with me?” It was a foolish want to know what Hell waited for you within these walls.

“Well, that I haven’t decided yet,” he said, with such innocent, his motives could be considered unknown, yet you knew better. “When I figure it out, Lady-boy, you’ll be the first to know.”