Long 5SOS AUs

Demon!sos- (Everybody's Got Their) Demons 1/3

666 special even though I'm way past that

I LIVE for this book cover

A soft red glow settled throughout the crumbling old house on the corner of Church street and Faith boulevard. If anyone was looking, they would've seen red beams of light dripping from the windows like blood as the house groaned and shifted on its foundation. If they were inside, they could've seen the pieces of trash and rubble flying around in a huge vortex right over the pentagram freshly painted on the floor. If anyone was listening they could've heard the screams of the foolish teenagers who'd opened the portal, and the haunting laughs of the demons that escaped.

Two tiny eyes saw, but without really looking; they were too full of tears, complaining about a rumbling stomach in the dead of night. By the time the tired mother and father came staggering in, the light was gone and the screaming had ceased, but the witching hour wasn't over, and the demons didn't return to Hell.

"Shhh, it's okay sweetie, mommy's here," the mother scooped up the baby and held her to her chest. The child's cries subsided at the promise of a meal.

"She's still right on time with the three thirty feeding," the father yawned and stretched his arms high over his head as he struggled to stay awake. He wasn't technically necessary at the moment, but enjoyed seeing his firstborn whenever he could.

"Yeah," the mother sighed. She was feeling oddly content in the moment, happy to be sitting there and cradling her baby, happy to be feeding her and making sure she was healthy and safe. A single finger ran across the fresh skin of her daughter's face, baby soft, baby smooth, newly cursed.

The soft pink clock resting on the edge of the changing table turned to 3:33, and then promptly shut off.

"What was that?" The mother straightened, the baby squirmed, now agitated.

"Must have lost power," he moved over to the window and peered out, "neighbor's lights are on, must've blown a fuse or something. I'll go check." He wasn't particularly concerned, the house was new for them, but built a long time ago. One of the fuses was probably old and went out, nothing he couldn't fix.

"Okay," the baby broke off and the mother cuddled her close as they both watched her husband trek off to the garage to check the fuses.

As soon as the door softly clicked shut behind him, a loud knock echoed through the room, shaking the door and rattling the windows.

"TREVOR!" The baby was in her arms, held as close as possible. Someone must have broke in. They couldn't touch her baby.

Another loud knock, the rocking chair flew out from under her, and she fell painfully onto her back, the baby cushioned by her body. Loud cries filled the room at the sudden disturbance.

"TREVOR!" She sat back up, the definite pain in her lower back forgotten as adrenaline ran through her veins. She looked behind her, but nobody was near the chair. Nobody else was in the room.

A third knock had her shrieking and the baby screaming in pain as the inside of her left wrist suddenly burned red, the number thirteen glowing through her thick white pajamas.

Then it stopped. The number on the clock showed it was 3:34, the baby stoped shrieking, and the tired footsteps of the father filtered into the nursery as he shuffled inside. "I got it," he flicked off his flashlight, "I don't know what happened but I flipped the switch and everything turned back on. Must have been a fluke." He looked over at his wife, paler than he'd ever seen her, panting and staring at him like she'd just seen a ghost. Her hair was stuck to her face in sweat and she was on the floor, blanketing their sleeping baby like someone was trying to take her.

"What happened?"

...

None who sees the Fearsome Four ever escape alive, 13 years they have to wait until their final cry.

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