Demons V2

Chapter 50: The Story

Karl POV.

We sat on the couch together, both dressed up with Sapnap on his phone and me trying (and failing) to read a book. Dream and George had been gone for just over an hour. I had tried to read a relatively simple book but after not reading for years it was a bit of a struggle.

Occasionally I’d sound out a word, something which I hadn’t done since I was six or seven and spelling words in English. When I didn’t know the word I would point it out to Sapnap and he would tell me. It felt weird to read again but I found that I quite enjoyed it.

Suddenly the door opened and both of us glanced over to see Dream walking in while carrying a bag of cat food. Behind him was George and another person who was a lot older than both George and Dream. “Who is this?” Sapnap asked. “Did you get yourself a second human without telling me? That’s not fair.”

“I kind of got a second human.” Dream responded with uncertainty. “This is George’s father. He hasn’t told me his name yet and I am not sure what we are going to do with him.” George’s father? I thought that both me and George had been orphans either from the demons or from just running away.

From his expression I could tell he had a deep distrust of both Sapnap and Dream, and he also seemed to be eyeing me up cautiously. I didn’t take it to heart, noting how I felt in the first few days… or weeks… or maybe months… of being here. Instead I gave him a welcoming smile, a way of showing that I understood what he was going through.

He just looked over at George, telling the brunette to ‘take him to another room’, and George nodded, muttering a few quiet words that told his father to follow him. We all watched as he led his father up the stairs, an anxious expression on his face, then I sighed and lowered my head.

A few times, in faint memories on the outskirts of my mind, we had talked about our families before the whole world went to shit. It would usually be during nights when neither of us could sleep, or on long stormy days when we couldn’t leave the cabin. So we’d just talk about what our lives were like beforehand.

✨A few years ago✨

“Don’t be stupid.” I told the brunette, looking at him firmly from where I sat on the bed. “You can’t go out in this weather, it’s too dangerous.”
“We need clean clothes Karl,” he replied, not noticing my look as he gathered our clothes.

He had always been the more organised one. The one who kept track of how many clean items of clothing we had, and how many more days the food would be able to last. Today was the day he had planned on cleaning all of our clothes, but now it was raining really badly, and it had been since we woke up.

“It’s probably a hurricane, or a storm, or something, either way it’s really bad.” I told him. “You could die if you go out there.” He paused, clearly thinking about what I was saying and hesitating about it. “George please.” I continued.
“Fine.” He replied. “Just cause I won’t be able to wash it properly in this weather.”

The weather had been this bad since we woke up. The thundering sound against the roof is what woke us up, and although George was desperate to stick to his routine, I convinced him to sit down on the bed. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked him, thinking that it would be a good way to pass the rainy day.

“We shouldn’t sit and talk.” He responded, standing back up almost immediately. “There are other things to do. I could sweep.”
“Can’t you just allow yourself to sit back and relax for a few hours?” I asked him. “You are more serious than my old teachers.”

“Karl, we have to do stuff.” He told me firmly. “We have to clean or organise or plan or something. How else are we going to survive?”
“I understand, but you are always working, surely we can lay under the warm covers for a while?” After a moment George nodded.

I grinned happily and pulled the brunette under the blankets. We both giggled as we laid under the thin covers of our bed. The two of us were silent for a while before I spoke up, my boredom and anxiousness of the rain being the thing that broke me. “Can you tell me about yourself?” I asked him, looking for a way to pass the time.

Asking that was like a kid asking for birthday presents. He only told me these types of things on rare or special occasions just like a birthday. “What do you wanna know?” George asked, he raised a brow while he was looking at me. I thought for a moment.
“Can you tell me about your family?” I asked him, having not heard much about them before.

For a few moments he thought, but then he gave a small nod. “Well I guess that I can tell you some stuff about them.” He said, and I grinned. “My mother, she was really nice. She used to be a chef but became a housewife after I was born. She was always around to look after me, helping me with homework and all my other clubs and stuff.” He explained.

I listened with a grin and he continued. “My father was a lot different.” He said. “Often he would get angry, he was a perfectionist. Whenever I did something wrong I was considered a failure. My siblings got the same treatment, but they seemed to mess up a lot less.” I listened curiously.

His story wasn’t the nicest one as he explained about a relatively tragic childhood of him being one of the worst of his siblings. How he was always pressured to be the best in school and all the clubs that he was a part of, and being required to outshine siblings who were also the best in school and the clubs they were part of. Plus helping around the house and stuff.

I knew that a lot of George’s stories weren’t based in complete truth, and honestly a lot of mine weren’t either. After all of the stress and sadness of our real lives, exaggerated stories talking about us being the tragic heroes enduring daring hardships often made us feel a lot better about ourselves and each other.

This was one of them. Him talking about a family that treated him badly I wasn’t sure if I believed, just enjoying listening to what he told me as I nestled in with him.

✨Modern day✨

The thoughts of the stories that George told me resurfaced as I watched him leaving with his father. I had never believed that any of those stories about him were based in truth, especially now that I saw a wary man in his late forties in front of me.

After they were gone I settled down on the couch once again, with Dream just following where the two of them left with his gaze as Sapnap sat down beside me.
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1251 words

Karl getting Sapnap to help him read ❤️

And Karl and George casually cuddling ❤️