Everything is making sense right now. Now it is getting clear from the daydream to the journal to the threats.  Can’t believe I was born half of a demon. And my father mother is the man…or demon who has written The Demon Trials and all other stuff in his missing journal.

Can’t believe it.

 Why mom did not tell me at least his name.

I still want to know if he is still alive, but just digesting the fact he is my father is an understatement. 

Did I look like him?

Did he ever care about me?

It was hard really to go through those years mainly throughout my childhood without a father. Even though my mother tried to be the “two-figure” parent in many situations, there were some situations that were best suited for just the father to take care of. My mother did a great job raising me; I’m not criticizing that. However, I just felt maybe it would have been nice to had time playing peewee sports or camping or fishing with my father. I needed to know who he was. Now that I know that the man who left me when I was born is actually a demon, I’m taken a stark back to try to fully understand why he left in the first place.

Since being a demon, I think it was hard for Dantailon to try to be the father he needed to be. If it is the case, maybe I would understand a little bit better now than when I was younger. Maybe it was hard to raise a half-human/half-demon. Reading his journal, my father written that a Devos will struggle between light and dark and…and will be the Rare One. Mal needs to tell me more.

I approach near my side of the bed hearing the squeakiness of the springs as Mal sat on the side of it while I had to take a step back. Letting a huge exhale out of mouth after finding out Dantailon is my dad.

Mal sitting near bed glances over my direction near the desk area where I was standing nearby. It seemed he a lot to get out of his chest. I commend him for telling me the truth, yet I do not think that is not all. He is still keeping more.

“Mal!” I yell.

“It’s Malphas.” He says assertively.

“Malphas?!” I ponder touching on the fact that I know that name before and it was indeed from the journal dad wrote. It appear to be one of the points Dantailon wanted to state by jotting down those names to make me know them. Because in some way, he knew I was probably going to meet them soon. Two I have not yet met: my father and Asmodeus. Hopefully, I will not meet Asmodeus soon. I stand near Mal or Malphas right near him to the edge corner of the bed. I sit on the opposite side.

Touching my palms in my left arm I felt a strange, menacing feeling through my body like a brush of wind had just blown into my room.

“I can still call you Mal?” I ask.

“I’m fine with that.” He responds appearing more appreciative.

“Okay, so do you have any suggestion on what should I do?” I say.

“You are not ready.” He replies.

“What you mean I’m not ready? I just defeated one of those hellions.” I say trying to prove maybe I can handle myself.

“Listen Caden, your father didn’t promise me to let you die without making sure you keep that under control.” He says.

“Wait…” I pause as I use my right pointer finger to touch my chest. “You mean my demonic side.”

“Yes!” He says affirmatively.

“I can see what powers I have so I can use them as self-defense when another demon strikes.” I say trying to make him see I would not be helpless.

“You don’t understand!” He states as he quickly gets up from sitting on near the side of the bed and now back standing up. “You are not ready!”

“Maybe I need to train.” I say.

“You do, but not now!” He says.

“So wait I can’t fight or I can’t train.” I say.

“You’re simply not ready. With Purson, I didn’t anticipate he was disguising as one of your teachers.” He says.

“I hope he was the only one.” I say putting my head down praying he was the last one masquerading as someone I know.

“And that’s the thing you need to watch out for.” I say.

I rise my head back up to hear him precisely.

“Every demon uses human disguises as their perfect way to camouflage unseen in the mortal world.” He says.

“Are you using a disguise?” I ask him.

There I view him as he giving himself an observance through his appearance—the same old rugged beard with that dark hair and cold pale skin.

“Let just say this is one of my best appearances.” He says mirthfully.

“One of your best?” I say confused. “How many appearances you went?”

“Thousands, yet I like this one because it suited me.” He says proudly.

“Being what a demon?” I had to ask that.

“Being an outsider.” He says. “I spent thousands of years living and surviving down in the Underworld. However, when Asmodeus grew in his strength and shaped that place into his kingdom, I had to go. Years after that, I recruited others to be outsiders…in this case Karina and Aris.”

“What about my father?” I assert wondering anxiously for Mal’s answer. Mal smirks a little probably indicating my father had a part, yet I do not what.

“Your father was my friend. The only friend I had back there. We both got out of the Underworld scourging up here to stay low.” He responds.

As I listen, I just try to put a picture of Mal and my father together. I had no idea what Mal would have looked like or even I had no clue what my father looked like.

“Mal, I need to know this.” I say.

“What is it?” He says.

“What my father looked like?” I raise the question.

“He had your eyes.” He replies. “If anything, it seems every moment I speak to you, I’m speaking to Dantailon.”

That may not be the definitive question I been waiting for, but just knowing one amazing fact about my dad that I have his eyes feels much more as a complement.

“Thanks” I continue. “About those trials, you knew.”

“I did. Your father created this. All I know, he told me he wouldn’t teach you if he was alive. However, he will guide you by doing that journal. Doing those trials is the upmost, but while you do those trials, we have to train.” He explains.

“I want to complete those trials. I need to.”

“You will, until we know for sure it is safe. I have to go.” He declares.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Looking at Mal, it seems he was thinking about something and it made him spiked.

While he is starting profusely at my lamp right behind me he snaps back to reality. “I need to take care of something with the other outsiders.” He says.

All of the sudden, my iPhone I put nearby my almost finished sandwich near the desk is starting to ring. I wanted to prevent Mal from leaving, but as my phone continue to ring; I had to see who was calling me. I reach over to my desk bypassing the bed to get to the phone. I pick it up as I touch the screen to see the screen.

Liana’s picture comes up with her name and number.

I feel like I can talk to Liana later, so I dismiss the call where I hear the beep confirming the call was ignored. I’m thinking Liana is probably pissed that I hanged up on here. She probably is thinking why did he do that?Maybe I’m wondering why I did that myself. She is my best friend and right now I’m treating her like she was an unblocked number. I’ll make sure I’m going to make it up to her.

Almost forgetting about Mal, I hear a swoosh! sound almost sounding like the wind blowing right behind me. I swivel around to check to see Mal is still there. However, to my disappointment, Mal vanishes.

Failing at both fronts…not trying to answer Liana back or stopping Mal from leaving. I’m alone in this lonely house just waiting for mom to prep for dinner. Until mom comes back, I think about finishing about the sandwich. Heading back to the desk, I grabbed what was left of my sandwich and chew the rest of it down in my mouth; swallowing it down.

Thinking what Mal said, is he losing confidence that I cannot protect myself or is there more? Mal is acting like this pact they made is more important than my life. He knew my father, so Mal is trying to be like my father in trying to not make myself be a victim. But right now, I’m acting like a victim.

Instantly as I’m focusing on my thoughts, there is a sudden pain that just jerk my mind. I fleetly put my right hand on the right side of my forehead trying to feel the pain. I try rubbing my forehead with fingers to alleviate the pain. And then the pain increases, I want to yell, but very quickly I stop.

The pain suddenly is hurting very similar to how my eyes hurt. I’m trying to isolate the cause; but the pain still agonizes. I had to make a painful grin feeling the abuse. Forcing no other choice, I widen my mouth and holler a loud scream.

Agghh!

As I shout, the silver trash bin just inches in front of me right close to the door leading to the hallway erupts in fire. The flames quickly blazing the inside of the bin, where I just stop shouting and peak at the bin with the fire. The pain immediately stops as soon as the bin erupted in fire. I look at the burning bin, and I get an immediate flashback to the burning cactus.

As I begin to smell the smoke, I try to grab one of the face towels inside the bathroom cabinet. Taking hold of the towel, I hustle back to the spot where the bin is on fire. I start whipping the towel to blow wind to decrease the flames. About a minute, I’m able to stop the fire clearing out the flames where what is left in the inside is a blackish-brown burnt.

This was no spontaneous combustion. Just like the tree back when I was eight, the ceiling fan lights yesterday, and seeing that demon mysteriously died, the pain I been going through must have been my demonic side taking over. It seems my demonic side needed to find a way to get out and what best way then to use my anger and frustration. When I get to that point where I get irate, my demonic side saw it as an opportunity to unleash its powers. And if Syril was right about other powers I have yet it is still in dormant, I may have no clue what to look forward to in the near future.

That is why Mal is so quick to tell me it is not the time and maybe why my father made that promise in the first place. They probably know my demonic side is unstable and if I do something selfish, it would not end well. I believe they want me to control it before I use it. Until I can truly control my powers, I need to keep my anger in check. My demonic side sees it as an opening. I need to find a way to make it close until I’m able enough to handle my demonic self.

***

Exhausted, I notice out my windowsill the sky is approaching. I check that clock of mines as it reads 7:31 PM. I want to rest up, so I jump in my bed feeling the smoothness of the mattress and the cold soft cover waiting to get me some early sleep. However, as I about to potentially get some rest to end this already complicated day.

I hear the front door opening up from here. I realize it has to be mom. She texted me earlier; she would be here by dinner time because she was at Nick’s. I lay my head on the plush white pillow hopeful my eyes will close so I can move on to the next day, but something is telling me.

Time is in the essence. Talk to mom.

Becoming aware of that, I rise myself sitting up in the bed; I get out of the bed rushing out of my room into the hallway. From rushing out of my room, I slow down near the living room and foyer where mom is talking to Nick right near the front door. I press myself onto the wall watching them not trying to overhear.

“See  you later.” She says.

“You too.” He says.

They then reach each other, and they share a kiss to the lips.

Yuck! It really is. I would love to see my mother happy, but seeing that can just fall as another low point of the day. I should have come here two minutes later, but I cannot get rid of the image. Mom soon waves bye to Nick as he steps out of the porch and into his car near our driveway. She closes the door.

Mom sighing that her “date” if it was that went okay, yet that is what I sense from her. She turns to see me spying near the hallway wall.

“What is with you spying on me?” She says as she drops her brown purse near the dining room table right near her purple nurse bag.

“Just making sure he can be trusted.” I say.

“Nick?!” She says shocked. “Nick is a good man, Caden.”

“I just feel something is not right with him.”

“Well changing subject, how was your day.” She says as she really wants me to get over dissing Nick.

“My day went well, sort of.” I say as I sit down on the couch in the living room.

“Okay, mister. Explain.” She states.

I look at her wanting to stay quiet, but that voice telling me that time was in essence and I need to talk to her plus the fact the true story about Mal and me being a Devos. I wonder does she know or is she being blinded by my father’s actions. Does she know my father was a demon? And that she helped spawn a half-demon.

“I need to tell you something, mom.” I say.

“Okay?” She hesitantly asserts.

“You should sit. Please!” I state.

She does exactly that. “I need to be in a comfortable position, because I have no idea where this is going.” She says while she sits right near me on the couch.

I fear sort of uncertainty, so I hastily get up from the couch. As I stand up, mom is looking at me like I did something wrong like being in trouble at school or breaking something that was valuable.

“Caden, what’s wrong dear?” She says worrying about my state of mind.

“I need to know is it true?” I ask.

“True about what?” She asks back.

“About me…” I say starting to waver how should I go with what I need to say.

“Caden, what is going on?” She asks.

“That I’m a demon!” I yell.

And like a bullet from a hunting rifle just went off, everything is dead silent.  When I declare to her that I was a demon, she just stays speechless for over a minute.

“Mom?” I ask.

“A demon.” She replies.

“Unfortunately, yes.” I say.

However, I glance at her face there is no sense of dread. No sense of disgust. She just looks at me like I was telling her I found a forgotten photograph. No emotion that would suggest hatred.

“Why are you looking me like that? It’s like you heard this from before.” I say.

She gives me the same look, but when I say if she has heard it before, she put her head down kind of sighing.

“You knew?!” I say.

She looks at me with her blue eyes and gives off a chilly, fathomable answer.

“Yes son, I already know.” She says.