The Cursed Angel

Now You See Me Now You Don't

Chapter 3: Now You See Me, Now You Don't.

Jasper:

~3 days ago~

If only life had a delete button.

Normal people in normal outfits and doctor coats. It looked like some pharmacist convention of demons, sporting the whole 'normal human, black eyes' thing. It didn't seem scary, everyone else in the building was used to this, other than the human servants who still feared them. The humans called them the Black eyes.

"Why don't we just kill it." A tall, stocky Black eye hissed. The shorter human servant looked down at the small child in his arms, barely two days old but looked back up with wide, understanding eyes.

"We can still use it. It has-" The servant began, but was cut off by the taller Black eye.

"What use do we have for a shifter!" He yelled. The servant looked unfazed, watching the baby again who was now fussing and shaking his little fists in the air.

"For goodness sake, Cameron, you treat it like its your own." The tall black eye scoffed, yanking the child from his arms and turning away.

"Wait!" The servant Cameron yelled. The taller man glanced over his shoulder, giving Cameron a 'this better be good' look. He winced, trying to find a good excuse to keep the baby alive.

"He rarely looks the same. He would make a good... Collector." Cameron winced, finding a better word for 'kidnapper'.

"Fine." The tall Black eye scowled. "If you want it, you can take care of it." The Black eye tossed the baby to him, making him panic slightly, but stepped forward and caught him. The baby squealed and giggled, causing the tall Black eye to scowl again and walk away.

"It'll all be better soon." Cameron whispered, leaning down to place the baby into a large dog crate. The baby looked back at him and smiled toothlessly.

"Jasper." Cameron said, shutting the crate door.

Jasper's eyes opened as he lay in his bed, but by now he was used to the nightmares. He didn't bother to get up and feel bad for himself, instead let his eyes close and drift back into sleep.

Jasper held out his chubby baby fists in front of himself, trying to reach the plastic ceiling of his dog crate. The Black eyes treated their experiments horribly here; he could hear the whimpering of an older boy, about four, who they had left to die because he was a failure. They seemed to not hate him as much than the rest, but to say they liked him was a lie. He was more, well, useful. He was never the same since he was so young, for example, yesterday he was a redhead with green eyes and a face full of freckles, today he was blond with blue eyes and pale skin. His appearances lasted about a week, until he, so to say, "shed."

"46, out of you cage!" A particularly stocky Black eye yelled, slamming a steel toed boot into the door of the crate across from him.

"You too, 81!" The stocky Black eye turned to face his cage and swung open the door, pulling him out by his leg and flipping him right side up with one hand. He giggled - how he wasn't dead yet, he had no clue.

The supposed "46" climbed out of her now unlocked cage, brown dirty hair flowing down to her lower back and covering dark, angry blue eyes. She was much taller than him, appearing to be about eleven, and reluctantly followed the Black eye carrying him.

"So what's in store for today?" She asked confidently, crossing her arms. Letting out a huff, the Black eye ignored her.

"The usual? I guess so." The girl continued. Again, the Black eye ignored her, but seemed to be holding back anger.