Mimi's Demons

Chapter 89: Minion #2

 The Garcia kid had grown in the month Duke hadn't seen him. His wrist mostly healed too. He didn't know why that struck him as weird. Maybe because he thought kids were like plants that needed sunlight to grow and he'd basically stuffed a twelve-year-old in the basement and forgot about them after the three day check up.

A month had gone a long ways in paling the kid's hispanic colorings. He'd lost weight, though that could have been the few inches of growth he had achieved. His clothes were at least clean, if somewhat worn out and showing his ankles and wrists. But the greatest change was in the kid's hollow look. No longer did he look around expectantly and start jabbering about his needed bandwidth. In fact, he didn't look at Duke at all, opting to stay bowed perfectly in half until Duke had told him to straighten so he could get a look in his face.

He walked around the kid, humming. He flicked some of his extra length, making the kid flinch.

In the corner of the hallway, which had become their default meeting place, Honrye the demon watched on like a farmer watching their first crop being inspected.

"Looks aren't everything," Duke said, even though he had already read a lot from the Garcia boy's clean, whole, wound free skin and chapped lips. The kid was still sane enough to not hurt himself, nor had Honrye had to resort to physical pain, which was a treat unheard of without the help of weird demon powers. The chapped lips showed the kid wasn't spoiled, though, nor were the clean clothes. He was forced to live, even while staying with a demon who made him wish for death.

Honrye's regular reports—written with the grammar and punctuation of a fourth grader—had been sufficient to tell Duke enough as well. But it had been a month. Time to give the boy a glimpse of the future he could have. A goal to keep in mind, persay, if not an extra incentive.

He flicked his wrist over his shoulder and Omen Three and one of two trusted housemaids that worked with Serena came forward, armed with all the tools necessary to clean the boy up.

"I'm sure the demon's briefed you on the rules and what happens if you should break them?"

The boy nodded, but Duke could see the desperation in his eyes. He'd do anything to get out of the basement and away from the watching gargoyle.

As though they couldn't help themselves, Omen Three and the housemaid spared a glance at Honrye. Not that they'd see much aside from his unusual dark gray skin and electric green eyes. It was chilly in the basement, and Honrye never lost an excuse to wear one of his oversized hoodies, which had grown in number since Omen had been allowed his way. This one was dark purple and had some sort of Poke'mon on it.

...Maybe he should look into shoving a kid in Omen's lap after all, legal or not. Honestly, adopting a teenage demon practicing the arts of brainwashing wasn't healthy. He'd give them the Garcia boy if they were too good for him. It would be like rewarding Garcia himself handing his favorite son to such wholesome people.

After the Garcia kid was taken away into Honrye's room, which had an simple adjoining bathroom with a shower the kid would be able to wash away all the cut hair off with, Duke folded his arms and turned to the demon.

"If demons are technically spirits, why can't you see dead people as well?"

Honrye leaned against the wall behind him. "When did I say I couldn't?"

Duke gave him a look.

The demon smiled. "The dead are more preoccupied with themselves then the living. They're on a different plane, unlike demons and the living. They only occasionally cross over with permission from God to attend to their relatives, and even then they don't look much different from the living. I doubt Mimi ever noticed them."