Azazel purposefully strode away from the small cafe where he had bought some coffee. He had just finished a successful job and was on his way home. He didn't care much to be around others when he didn't have to. He was a loner, with the exception of Janos, but Janos didn't talk much, and that worked well for them.
He sipped his hot coffee, black and bitter, when a colorful poster caught his eye.
"Come see the demon child of Europe!" It boasted. Underneath the coquettish words was a painted picture of a blue Neyaph boy and the name of a circus.
Azazel's brow creased. He was sure this "demon child" was his own son, whom he had left with the witch Margali Szardos, who worked as a fortune teller in a circus. Surely she wouldn't be putting him in a freak show. Then again, this circus had a different name than Margali's. Maybe they had moved? He threw away his coffee, no longer caring for it, and made his way to the circus entrance.
Closed.
But that was not a problem for Azazel. He simply teleported past the gates and followed the signs to the "biggest attraction of them all", as another poster had so helpfully stated. The moon shone bright in the sky, but he didn't need its light to see.
He finally came upon the "Demon Child" exhibit. At first glance it looked to be an empty cage, but upon closer inspection, he saw a dark form, curled up in the floor. He moved in closer. "Kurt?"
It had to have been Kurt. Blue skin and fur and a spaded tail just like Azazel's own. He couldn't see any of the boy's other unique features, as he was lying on his side with his back towards Azazel and curled up into a tight ball.
"Kurt?" Azazel tried again, but Kurt didn't move. Azazel was really worried now. It was quite cold out, and all Kurt was wearing was a pair of dirty shorts, but he didn't shiver. Not even his fur could keep him warm right now.
Azazel looked towards the door of the cage. Locked. And again, not a problem. He teleported inside the tiny cage.
Ugh, how it stank. The floor was wooden and scattered with straw. An empty bowl sat next to another bowl half-filled with water. A heavy chain snaked its way to a stake in the floor. The other end led to a metal collar, clamped around Kurt's neck.
Azazel shook Kurt, but he still didn't wake up. He checked his pulse and breathing. He was alive, but he noticed something he hadn't before. Cuts and bruises along Kurt's back. What in the world had been done to him? The boy was filthy and patches of his fur had fallen out. Azazel swore that he would kill whoever did this to his son. They would die slowly, painfully, suffering what Kurt had and worse.
He grasped onto the metal collar and teleported it off, as there was no other way for him to get it off. Next, he took Kurt in his arms and picked him up. Kurt was much too light. How old was he now? Fifteen? That sounded about right. A fifteen year-old boy shouldn't weigh so little.
Azazel teleported back to his home on his island. He had to take care of his son. He could only imagine the shame and disapproval of his own father, if he had been alive to know how Azazel had let his son be treated. Azazel was ashamed.
He carried Kurt to the bathroom, where he managed to clean him up and bandage his wounds. He even dressed Kurt in some of Azazel's own clothes, though they were too big, they were still something, and they were warm. Kurt was in pretty bad shape, but he would get better. Azazel knew he would. He had to.
Since Kurt still wouldn't wake up, Azazel took him to one of the spare bedrooms and laid him in the bed. He covered him up and was about to move away when he saw Kurt move for the first time. Kurt turned over on his side and curled up, grasping the blankets and pulling them close around himself. Azazel tried to rouse him one more time, but gave up. He had a feeling Kurt was drugged, but wasn't entirely sure. He also had some business to attend to. So, he went and found Janos and asked him to keep watch over Kurt.
Janos simply nodded, took a seat, and read by lamplight as Azazel bamfed away.
He reappeared back at The Big Top Circus, near Kurt's cage. He went back inside and dipped a finger in the water bowl. He tasted it.
As he had suspected, the water was drugged. He had learned over many years to detect the slightest hint of something suspicious.
Now he had one more thing to do. He took one of his swords, which were not the swords he had inherited, but he needed a weapon, and dragged the blade over the bars of the cage, creating a loud ruckus. As he had hoped, men came to see what was the matter. Upon seeing their prize attraction gone, and a more devilish-looking man standing outside the cage with swords, the men attacked. Azazel slaughtered them all.
But he saved the best for last. He looked around until he found the trailer with the name of the circus owner on it. The one that had been on the bottom of the posters. Amos Jardine.
Azazel opened the door and let himself in. Jardine was there.
"What in the—" Jardine began. "Kurt?"
"No." Azazel's tail flicked behind him. "His father."
Jardine's eyes grew wide and Azazel seriously thought the man might wet himself.
"Help!" Jardine called.
"They can't hear you. They're all dead." Azazel made a swift movement to pin Jardine against the wall, his blade against the other man's throat. "Where is the boy's mother?" He pressed the blade against Jardine's skin just enough to cause a little blood to trickle. Margali would have never let anything like this happen. He hoped she was okay, old feelings for her resurfacing.
"Europe!" Jardine cried. "I don't know where! After she sold the kid to me, I left and never saw her again!"
Azazel dropped his blade about an inch. "She what?"
Jardine took a breath. "She sold him to me. Fifteen hundred dollars. I—I got it in my books, see?" He indicated his desk.
Azazel snarled and turned away to look at the man's finances. But he wasn't stupid. He knew Jardine would run. So he tightened his tail around Jardine's neck and brought him with him. "Show me." Azazel commanded.
Jardine nervously looked for the correct book and flipped through it, fumbling around and dropping things the entire time. His face dripped with sweat and his hands shook. He finally found what he was looking for. "H-here. See? Last October. The twenty-seventh. Fifteen hundred dollars."
She had done what? He thought. That witch had sold his son into a freak show! He would have his revenge on her as well. But for now, he would deal with this piece of homo-sapien scum.
Azazel turned his head and looked at the man who had bought a child to be used in some sick circus attraction and dropped his swords. He wasn't going to kill him. Not yet. Instead, he unleashed his anger with his fists. He got a little creative too, slamming Jardine's head into the desk and just having a little fun with this one-sided fight.
Once Jardine was a bloody pulp, Azazel grabbed his arm. "Come with me." Like Jardine had a choice. Azazel teleported them outside Kurt's cage and looked at it for a moment.
Jardine looked from the cage to Azazel and horror set in. "Oh, no. No. Nononononono. Please. I'll do anything!"
But Azazel ignored Jardine's pathetic pleas. He teleported them inside the cage and put the collar on Jardine. "You will live like he did until I see fit to kill you." Azazel told him. He teleported himself out, then took the cage and it's inhabitant to a remote location where it would not be found. He didn't want Jardine dying, not yet, for he needed information from the man, and he wanted the pleasure of killing him himself.
"Good night," Azazel grinned as he bamfed away one last time, leaving a terrified Amos Jardine behind.
Azazel reappeared back in Kurt's bedroom and looked towards Janos, who calmly looked up from his book.
"Any change?" Azazel asked.
Janos shook his head.
"I'll stay with him for now. Thank you, comrade." Azazel took a step towards the chair his friend was occupying.
"Not a problem." Janos said quietly as he got up. "I'm sorry, Azazel."
Azazel simply nodded as he took Janos' seat. Tonight was going to be a long night, but he wasn't going to sleep until he knew Kurt would be okay.