The Struggles of Dating a Demon [Completed]

Family

Nonetheless, the monster twisted to address the gargoyle. "Leave us, and tell the others to do the same. This is my fight."

The gargoyle must have acquiesced, because his meaty claws retracted from Mabel's shoulder a moment later.

"Now," the beast practically purred, "for your part. Since I don't have time to kill you, this will have to do." It plucked her up, throwing her none-too-gently to the far corner of the room. Mabel landed in a heap, her body screaming in protest, and looked up just as it waved its hand in a circular motion. A transparent sheen formed between her and the fake Herman, like some kind of barrier.

"See? Now you can watch us, but he cannot watch you. Be a dear and don't make too much noise, alright?" Then the creature turned back to the large door, barely able to duck underneath the piece of wood when it was blown off its hinges.

Mabel had never been so relieved to see Aleron, one hand clutching his sword as he stood in the doorway, looking decidedly bloodthirsty.

"Where have you put her?!" he demanded, stalking forward until he stood nose-to-nose with the Herman who was not actually Herman.

The fake Herman smiled serenely. "You are too late, Brother. I am afraid your darling little human couldn't withstand the treatment down here. She left us this morning; you would have felt the connection sever, but you know very well how being down here interferes with those things."

There was a moment of silence, and the hair on Mabel's arms stood on end with the tension that sparked in the air. The shadows of the room converged around Aleron, just as the demon collapsed to the ground, face twisted in anguish as his sword fell with a clatter next to him. He sucked in a breath, then released it in a thunderous yell that shook Mabel's bones; the shadows shot outward, dousing the lights and knocking the not-Herman into the wall.

Aleron made no move, even though his enemy was struggling to stand. Instead, her protector remained kneeled on the ground, hands shaking and head bowed.

Get up! She willed him silently, crawling forward and banging her bloody fists against the invisible barrier that separated them, cursing mentally when no noise resonated.

Get up, Aleron!

The other monster gathered himself, stalking towards Aleron and kicking her guardian in the stomach. Aleron fell backwards with a grunt, but didn't attack. Her normally strong protector appeared to be drained of all fight, and Mabel felt a silent scream get clogged in her throat.

"You are weak, Brother," possessed-Herman taunted, bending over Aleron and spitting in his face. "Has a human being truly done this to you? It is no wonder you are no longer fit to complete your duties. Get up and fight! We will do this as we were meant to."

Aleron only shifted his head to the side, the fire in his eyes reduced to a dull spark as he stared blankly where Mabel was hidden.

She couldn't watch anymore—she didn't want to know what would happen, but she couldn't bear for Aleron to willingly let himself die solely because he believed she was gone.

She would not just lie down and die, weak human or not.

Eyes searching frantically around the confined space, she let her gaze settle on some loose bricks before moving her attention to a torch stationed six feet up the wall on an iron post. A stupid, idiotic idea formed in her head that would probably get her killed.

But Mabel didn't have much to lose at this point, and—as the saying went—desperate times called for desperate measures. If she could use the sharp tip of the iron to try and break the barrier . . . well, she'd never know if she never tried.

She ripped off part of her tattered dress, separating it into two strips and wrapping one around each palm. With one hand keeping her steady against the wall, she used the other to pull at the loose bricks, hope blossoming in her chest when they came out without much issue. Another layer of bricks lay beneath, but Mabel ignored them.

Grabbing the largest of the bricks, Mabel readied herself beneath the metal fixing the torch in place, raising the arm clasping the brick and jumping as high as she could. She swung the brick at the same time, wincing when it slammed against the iron and knocked her shoulder back.

It was a good hit, but nothing happened. The iron didn't fall, and she wanted to scream, cry, and fall asleep all at the same time.

Instead, she dropped the brick, bent over, and hacked up more blood.

Crap.

Staring at the blood pooled on the floor dumbly for several beats, Mabel reached forward after a moment with one hand to touch it, her mind racing with memories from better times.

"This whole summoning thing," she waved her hands around, as if the action would explain what she was talking about, "Does it work all the time? Like, what if I can't say your name?"

Aleron stiffened at the suggestion. "I would never let that happen, Little One." At her expectant look, he huffed and continue, "If it were to somehow occur, you need only write my name instead."

One of Mabel's brows quirked. "And that works?"

Aleron considered the question for a moment, before nodding once. "It will. Not as well as saying my name, unless you wrote it in your own blood," his eyes turned sharp, "Which you are never to do. It will drain you immensely if you summon me that way."

This seemed like a good as time as any to write with blood—she had plenty of it at her disposal, after all. With trembling fingers, Mabel dragged her blood-covered fingers in a jerking motion across a clear spot on the ground.

A L E R O N

H E L P

God, I hope this works.

*****

A/N:  *Squints* Hmmm. A cliffhanger. Niiiiiiice. I dig it. *ducks pitchforks from angry readers* Don't worry, all will be revealed soon (maybe). 

Alrighty--thanks for the reads and the votes, m'dears! They're much appreciated;  feel free to drop a comment, too. :)

Till next time, 

AR