Whispers

Whispering adjustments

Hunger.

Thirst.

Exhaustion.

Tiredness.

The need to visit a bathroom.

Sweating.

Freezing.

So many things I was forced to adjust myself to.

My first attempts to stand up and walk around had ended with me falling face first onto the floor repeatedly until I had given up and had crawled around the unfamiliar room in which I had woken up.

Everything was so big and scary, everything I touched felt strange and frightened me even further.

Soft carpet, hard floor, the air brushing softly along the exposed skin of my face and hands, the constant rubbing of clothes on my body... the thought of owning a body itself!

Tears had started to fall from my eyes and had made their way down my cheeks – another new sensation which drove me deeper into a new panic attack.

One of the demons finally had found me hidden away in the darkest corner I had been able to find, curled up in a tight ball with my arms wrapped around my legs and quietly sobbing.

He had tried to comfort me, but when he had uttered his first words in a low voice I had hissed at him and had turned my back to him.

He hadn't dared to get any closer...

Days and nights passed by without my knowledge.

Thankfully, someone – my best bet would be Barbatos... - had closed the curtains in 'my' room to spare me from the changing lights.

All I knew was that someone – again I would think that it was the demon butler's doing – provided me with food and liquids.

At the beginning I hadn't cared for those dishes.

For me there had never been the need to eat or drink before, at least not the way the demons did.

Whenever there had been the need to regain nutrition I had done what my kind usually did: I had absorbed energy from around me. Easy and quite fast.

But back then I had been bodyless, a shadow, present yet not physically around at all. Now, on the other hand, things were a bit more difficult.

The first time I had tried to eat or drink it had ended with me choking on the things while a disgusting tingle had spread itself through my mouth.

And if it hadn't been necessary to consume those nasty things, no matter how 'good' they smelled, I would have refused to get near them again at all.

But the worst part – at least for me – were the visits I received...

Despite my protests and the obvious signs that I didn't want to see any of them, the demon brothers kept visiting me.

Sure, Barbatos was a regular, too, but that didn't mean that he received any other treatment from me than they did.

Usually I would hide myself in my corner and would hiss at them threateningly whenever they dared to even think about approaching me.

Sometimes I even managed to hide myself completely from their view, but not once since the happenings in the dining room did I speak with them.