Demon Baby

Chapter 1: The Making of the Baby

 It was a clear and humid night. Wet hot summer had attacked the region of Tzeitaran in full force. Including the cult of m. Now m on it's own is harmless, certain sects get a little culty. Unfortunately, it took Hama a little to long to realize that.

You see a few months ago, in the soft humidity of spring, Hama was called to the seraphim's tent. They called him the seraphim because he claimed to be a gift from Molhai brought upon the world. Hama did think he was a bit odd. The man was old and weathered, yet could hop around like a frog. He swished and frothed in a white satin night gown, the garb of Molhai he called it. On the night gown were button holes, on one side with no buttons and the other, full of them. Cascading down onto just above the end of his chest. Around the sleeves and collars light gray embroidery, telling the story of the cursed betrayer. On his head he wore an elaborate head-dress, adorned with red feathers and blue coral in a crown formation.

Hama just found him a bit odd, but a good disciple of Molhai none the less. He was quite a charming and funny man. So when he called on her, and she entered his tent, to find him completely in the nude, his grounds having more hair than the ones on his head, and his folds sagged one over the other, she knew something was off. Next, when he got a sly look in his eyes and smiled with those crooked, never washed teeth of his, she began to feel the distinct feeling of fear. When he finally got to the point, after ogling her for more than five minutes, she knew she fell into some deep shit.

She pretended she was on her blood then, his face wrinkling into disgust. He instantly got up, fetched his night gown, and waved her off. For the next few months she faked everything under the sun.

"Irregular periods," she explained.

"Hideous skin," she feigned.

"Yeast infection," she sighed.

All because she found out it was quite difficult to leave cults. You see, turns out cults generally want you to join but find leaving distasteful. Turns out cults weren't proponents of mutualism but parasitism like her mother would say. So she did the only thing she could do.

Summon a demon.

Now she wasn't exactly sure how to do this, relying on prior knowledge of the very little books she had read. Along with the lack of information thing. Being out in the forest and trapped by an evil cult all. So she drew what she hoped to be a sigil, drank a bottle of wine, lit some candles, and instead of the usual latin, she kidnapped and slayed a lamb.

The lamb didn't scream as it bled out, simply lay there, it's eyes staring into Hama's soul as it's blood took shape of the sigil. Hama reached into her bag of herbs and tossed sulfur upon the sigil, hoping that it would work. It did. The lamb burned to ash in an instant, spreading as a clawed hand rifled through the gray powder. The air in the tent turned foggy as Hama reeled back. The hand was red and glistening, like blood. Whether it was his actual skin or not, she couldn't tell. Then another hand sprang out, grasping for a hold.

Through the ash there was a loud mumbling as the hand continued to flop all around. Hama's eyes widened as she realized that the demon needed help. Should she help him? Would it be safe?

Shrugging her shoulders and muttering, "What the hell," she grabbed the clawed hands, careful not to touch the tips, and pulled back. The demon emerged with a groan as it's clothes-less body became flush with Hama's face.

Disgusted, having seen entirely to many hairy penis' in the last few months, she quickly tossed him a towel. Upon landing on him the towel began shriveling up and burning to a crisp. At his confused expression Hama observed him. He had 16 white horns, angry red skin, outlandishly predator-like teeth, skin from the top to the pelvis and fur everywhere else, and a tail. It had thick, luscious, black hair that loomed down it's shoulders and back.