Demon Hunters

Chapter 7: Preparations

    It was the day before the festival and Grimm would be lying if he said he wasn't excited. The Demon Festival, while annoying because of some of his family, was the only place he could truly be himself. They always served the only food they had found that he could eat: the hottest chili peppers in all the kingdoms. Only Ghost knew they were the one thing he could hold down, and while he should tell his mom and dad, no one else was keen on spicy foods. He couldn't wait to beat Ghost in another pepper challenge.

    He was walking in and out of his closet as he hummed a tune that he didn't know where it came from, but loved. He was so excited, he was already choosing what he was going to wear to the festival. While he normally wore a pure white robe with intricate designs sewn into it and a gold trim, it just didn't seem to suit him this time.

    He kept looking through his closet to find something that might catch his eye, but nothing really jumped out at him. After two hours of searching, he found himself in the back of his closet where the light barely reached and everything was covered with dust. Did he even have clothes back here?

    He squinted his eyes to see the very back of the closet and saw something glimmer for a second. He focused harder and it seemed as though a light came on in the back. He looked at the clothing hanging from the- wait. How could a light turn on back there when he's the only one in the room?

    He blinked and got out of the closet while looking at everything around him. Everything seemed to be suddenly brighter. He looked at himself in the mirror and jumped back. His eyes were glowing brightly casting a red hue on anything he got really close to. As suddenly as it started, his eyes dimmed and everything began to look dimmer too and not as bright.

    He blinked his eyes rapidly and let out a long breath. What the heck was that about? Was this some sort if magic? The royal family all had magic which they called Soul Magic. Soul Magic could be used both defensively and offensively since it can heal and make attacks. Since they had no idea who their actual father (or mother for that matter) could possibly be, it was quickly assumed that they would never develop magic. Had their father been a shaman or something? Was their power going to be the ability to see in the dark?

    Grimm then remembered that he had seen something in the back of the closet that had caught his eye. He went back to the closet and decided that he was going to see if this was a power or some weird hallucination. He looked at the back of the closet. He closed his eyes and focused on wanting to see through the darkness. He opened his eyes and everything was as clear as day. He went to the back slightly giddy. He had magic when they thought he never would! He looked at the clothing and pulled it off the rack immediately.

    It was an odd, black cloak with a bright red inside and fluffy edges. He put it on curiously, trying to think of when his parents ever got him this. It fit perfectly; the bottom just barely above the ground and the fluff around the neck gently hugging his neck. The fluff wasn't itchy like other cloaks he had tried with fluff. It was soft and warm. It even felt like it had just been dried. Where did it come from?

    He focused on getting everything to dim and soon, everything was back to normal. He couldn't help but stare at the cloak now that the his new vision was gone. There wasn't a speck of dust on it and the fluff was so smooth, it shone. He couldn't remember getting it at all.

    Something was oddly familiar about it though. As though the color scheme of the cloak was tugging at a long forgotten memory. Grimm put the cloak back on and looked at himself in the mirror. Something about his reflection seemed just as familiar to him as the cloak.

Why did it seem so familiar? It kind of unsettled him the more he thought about it. He shook himself and took off the cloak, gently placing it beside his bed for the festival. He then fell back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His mind ended up drifting to all the people he would see at the festival. He'd probably see families taking their kids to the festival to have fun and rejoice in the fact that they didn't have to live in fear. That new generations could grow up only hearing the Nightmare King as a story of fiction, not of reality.