A Lost Soul

When he woke up, six-year-old Alfred Jones had no idea where he was. Everything was shrouded in shadows like the final minutes of twilight, when everything has enough light to be seen but not to be recognized. His head throbbed, and something was dripping down the side of his face. Nausea forced him to double over and hope that he wouldn't vomit. He seemed to be alone, but at the same time, he felt he wasn't. The only thing he knew in this hot, dark world was his identity.

I am Alfred F. Jones. I am six years old. I have a brother who looks like me. Our parents love us, and we love them. They said we would be together forever.

To poor Alfred, this was the only piece of sanity he had to grasp onto in the mad place. He kept repeating himself in his head over and over, but the disturbing smells and darkness kept reminding him he was alone. He didn't like the darkness. He wanted the warm sunshine and Matthew and Mama and Daddy. The dark held scary thing like ghosts and monsters that would tear his flesh and eat him. The dark meant he couldn't play with Mattie.

"I am Alfred F. Jones. I am six years old." Frightened, delirious eyes looked around. What was that sound? Would it eat him? It's scary. He continued to say the phrase, but it only half comforted him. The other half was slowly being driven to insanity. If he kept repeating, then he could remember Mattie and Mama and Daddy all he wanted to, but with every happy memory, the same image would pop into his mind right after. Mama was on the floor with Mattie in her arms lying in a puddle of blood. Their bodies were mangled, but their faces were left untouched. Daddy was propped against the wall, dead as well. All their eyes stared at nothing, seeing the world that would go on without them. What happened? The only thing he remembered after was a cool blade pressed up against his throat, and a sharp pain coming from his neck. He awoke in the seemingly endless twilight where he currently sat talking the same words to himself.

His mantra had become almost a prayer. A prayer for life to return to normal as it had been. A prayer for the Saturday morning cartoon shows he watched with Mattie. A prayer for the time he would tease his brother and take his stuffed bear while Mama and Daddy laughed. He didn't like it here. It was dark and sweltering. The heat burned and it wouldn't go away. Why won't it go away?

Before he realized it, he began to scream out his words as if they would change the world around him. He did not know how long he had sat there. He missed the nights cuddling next to Matt with the polar bear in between. He wanted the bedtime stories and goodnight kisses.

Where am I? Why am I here? What happened?

Alfred's screaming was interrupted by spurts of manic giggling. His blue eyes were glazed over. His jumbled thoughts were driving him insane, when a menacing chuckle sounded behind him. He spun around to meet a pair of glowing emerald eyes towering above him.

"Hello, poppet. Welcome to Hell. What are you doing here?" The voice was distinctly British and chilled him to the bone.

Alfred ran as fast as his little legs could go, but the voice still followed. It taunted and tormented him when he stumbled and tripped over unseen obstacles. "What? Never seen a demon before?" The eyes appeared in front of him, and he skidded to a halt. He did the first thing he could think of. He screamed.

The voice groaned at the sight and sound of the child before him. "Why must every single one of you newborns scream the first time you meet your own kind. The demon knew the boy would not stop until he showed himself completely. The eyes and voice became anchored with a face and body. To say the being was gorgeous was an understatement. Short, messy, blond hair framed porcelain skin without blemish. The glowing emerald eyes sat under thick eyebrows that almost detracted from his appearance. If anything, they made the demon seem all the more menacing to Alfred, who was stunned into silence.

"That's better. You are Alfred, correct?" A pregnant pause. "Come now, boy, answer me."

Alfred tried his best to swallow his fear. "Y-y-yes. Who are you?" The demon had to repress a chuckle.

"You wouldn't be able to pronounce my real name just yet, Alfred, but you may call me Arthur for now." Arthur smirked at the frightened child. This newborn would be perfect for manipulating. He would easily be controlled to carry out all his schemes, and oh, did he have many.

"Arthur…" Alfred tested the name on his tongue and mulled it over in his brain to remember the way the word felt when he said it. "What are you?"

Arthur almost lost his façade at the boy's surprising question. Hadn't he told him already? Maybe not. "I am a demon. Specifically one of the great Seven-"His sentence was cut off by Alfred as he began to laugh.

"A demon? There's no such thing!" Alfred almost couldn't breathe at the racking giggle interrupting him. He failed to notice the dark aura that began to emanate from Arthur. The insolent little boy would not laugh at Pride, the greatest (in his opinion) of the Seven Sins. A feral growl emitted from his throat.

Alfred froze at the sound coming from the "man" in front of him. To say he was scared by Arthur now was an understatement. Alfred was beginning to believe Arthur, but he couldn't be telling the truth, right? Monsters weren't real. If they were, did that mean Mama and Daddy had lied to him? They wouldn't lie. Would they? What else did they lie about?

In the midst of Alfred's rising panic, Arthur spoke again. "To think I was going to leave you unclaimed under my protection." Sky blue eyes snapped back to focus on Arthur. "Oh well. With my magic, you will still be useful."

"What?" Alfred's eyes widened almost comically.

"You shall find out soon, poppet." Large, black, leathery wings unfurled from Arthur's back, and horns materialized above his ears. Blond hair turned to a deep blood red. Teeth sharpened and his canines grew longer. A pointed tail flicked out behind him. "Don't move or this will hurt even more. It is time to start the blood ceremony."

"No!" Alfred didn't know what this "blood ceremony" was, but he knew he didn't want to find out either. He turned and sprinted again, this time being careful of the rocks on the ground that would trip him.

Arthur sighed. Honestly, why must they always run? Oh well, the chase never failed to amuse him, even if it did get tiring. But they are always full of energy. I might as well let him tire out before I make him one of my underlings. He will be more useful…, plus he'll learn not to stray too far as well. The others of the Seven aren't so… accommodating. In Pride's eyes, it was a win-win situation. The boy would learn how demonic an actual low class demon was, and make sure the boy stayed close to Pride's side. I do need to make sure Lust doesn't claim him before me. He always tries to take my prizes, but I think I'll take my chances.

"You're not going to get very far, Alfred. The others aren't so kind. An unclaimed newborn demon is bound to attract the classes higher than you." Arthur might as well warn the boy. After all, he was a gentleman.

"I'm not a monster!" Alfred refused to believe Arthur. He wasn't a monster. He was a hero!

The only response to his shout was an amused chuckle. "Believe what you will for now, poppet." Arthur's voice seemed to speak right into Alfred's ear. "I'll just let you go see the true 'monsters'. Just know, if you ever need me, all you need to do is call." A final glimpse of glowing eyes and a cheshire grin told Alfred he was alone, or at least he hoped he was. Either way, Alfred was getting exhausted from his escape. His legs hurt, but he didn't want the scary monster to come back and get him.

Why is it lighter? Alfred slowed down and looked around. It's even hotter here. His mind could only process a few errant thoughts.

Teaser to my new story! Hope you enjoyed!