"Samael, what in Gehenna is Father wearing?"
When I looked up at Beelzebub from my position on the floor, practicing on my drawing like a child, I saw that the two antennae at the top of his light green head were flattened in agitation and puzzlement. Despite being the fourth youngest, he was one of the more likeable ones to me—after all, you couldn't exactly say that you didn't know how he felt after being around him for a while. Beelzebub was frowning, staring at Father, who I turned my gaze toward.
What?
"Father, what are you wearing?!"
I'll admit, I was surprised myself. I'd never seen such an outfit worn by anybody, especially not my father. He wore a suit thick with red velvet that shone when the light hit it just right, and the edges were decorated with white fur. He had a hat with the same style, but it had a white pompom on the end of it. He had a thick black belt around his waist, brown slacks, and knee-high black boots in which the slacks were tucked into. Father looked up from trimming his fingernails, a little confused for a moment, his mind obviously elsewhere before he looked at me and said, "What?"
"What are you wearing? Why? Just… why?"
Father closed his eyes and smiled, the fire illuminating his face and shining off his snow-white hair cheerfully. He clenched his hands together tightly, as he often did when he was about to launch himself in one of his small lectures that he so enjoyed. Beelzebub and I rolled our eyes and looked at each other, my little brother mouthing, 'Why? Just… why?'
"I have seen the future, my boys," he said in his sickeningly sweet tone. He stood with his fingers still crossed and tilted his head endearingly to the side. "And it is bright! Horse-drawn carriages carrying optimistic noblemen and wealthy folks! Kings and queens of promises unfulfilled! War and bloodshed over pointless means!"
"Dad, what do carriages have to do with anything?" asked Beelzebub, crossing his arms as his antennae and eyebrow twitched irritably. "I mean, we're demons. So... we kinda already have that stuff?"
"So?" asked the devil, opening his eyes and frowning in puzzlement. At his feet, Amaimon was playing with our Cat Sídhe Sunakon (1), the family pet. At the confused tone of voice Father gave, he looked up, not understanding what was going on. "Still an amazing part of history, isn't it? Besides, sooner or later, this very day will be known as a holiday of give-and-take and merriment!"
At that final word, he unclasped his hands and spread his arms, the ever-dramatic Satan he always was, and laughed.
Beelzebub looked down at me and frowned. "Samael, I think I know where you get your eccentric personality from now," he said shortly, crossing his arms. I forced myself into a sitting position, crossing my legs and frowning at my bug brother, then turning my attention to Father, who finally ceased his laughter and gestured to his attire while I took a drink of my wine.
"So in the future, guess who's gonna give presents to the children of Assiah all across the world!"
I choked on my sweet wine, covering my mouth before I spat it out. Beelzebub reacted in a similar manner, but with his spit. Amaimon just sat there, only vaguely knowing what was going on.
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?"
Beelzebub began coughing, covering his mouth and hacking heavily into his hand. Amaimon giggled, amused by his older brothers' stunned responses, before breaking into full on laughter. Beneath my shirt, I felt my tail tighten around my body, a frown finding its way onto my face, replacing my surprise. Father only stood there, his arms still outstretched almost foolishly. "'What' what?" he asked, frowning slightly. "I'm bored, so…"
In that exact moment, one of my younger brothers decided to barge in, slamming the double doors open in a foolish attempt to sound important. "Daddy, I'm here!" shouted Azazel excitedly, launching himself in and coming to a halt right in front of Father. Behind him, his black, wisp-like tail wagged eagerly behind him, his hands clasped together as he hovered in the air all hunched over. On his legs were very long socks that covered his knees and had thick black-and-grey stripes. He called them stockings. And he was obsessed with these 'stockings'.
"My little boy," squealed Father, appearing just as happy as the King of Spirits did, "the dawn of Christmas is upon us! This day shall go down in history, known as a day of merriment and presents! That is why—"
"—Why you're going to give children presents that they've wanted throughout their entire lives based on whether they've been naughty or nice? How sweet!"
"Uh, no," said Father, expression suddenly going bland as he stared at Azazel's cheerful face. Slowly, Azazel's face fell, and I broke into a series of chuckles along with Beelzebub, whose antennae were twitching in his merriment. "Actually, it's a gift I will give Assiah.
"From the moment night begins on the Assian month of December on the day of the twenty-fourth during the turn of the tenth century, I hereby decree that any demon who causes massive destruction on Assiah from midnight to the start of the twenty-sixth shall be punished accordingly. Meanwhile, in the future, you—" here, he planted his hands firmly on Azazel's skinny shoulders "—are going to find a spirit who is willing to work in Assiah to give presents to the cute little children in the years to come. Make sure he's a happy, jolly bloke! This will be my second gift to Assiah, and will be enacted on the same day as the law begins!"
"Oooh!" exclaimed Azazel excitedly, clapping his hands together. "I know just the guy! Thanks, Daddy! I know what he'll be called, too! 'Santa Claus!' The first name is 'Satan' spelled a little differently, and 'Claus' without the 'e'! That way it's saying that it's Satan's Clause without anyone suspecting anything!"
Both Beelzebub and I shuddered. Despite how ladylike and clueless Azazel often acted, there was no denying that he had an ingenious mind when it came to certain things… such as this. Amaimon clapped happily and giggled as if on a silent cue, and Father did the same, except he laughed. "Wonderful, just wonderful!" he shouted, embracing our black-haired brother tightly. "You're a genius!"
"I know," said Azazel, smirking as Father let him go. "I'll get to it right away! He'll be ready in a few hundred years!"
"Perfect! Get it moving, dear sonny boy!"
After Azazel left with a happy grin and a jump in his glide (as well as an annoyed frown at Amaimon), Beelzebub sighed in exhaustion and collapsed next to me, on his knees. Father settled back down in his seat, his legs crossed and his fingers dancing over his knees. He was grinning giddily, his face slightly flushed and his smile infectious. Amaimon suddenly slammed his hand on the ground, and Beelzebub jolted upright almost immediately, anger flaring with a surprising speed. "Amaimon!" he snapped, ice blue eyes flaring in anger.
Amaimon frowned and looked at his older brother, his lips pursed almost sourly. "What?" he asked, putting down the toy mouse that Sunakon was trying to grab from him.
"Do not mess with my Chuchi!"
I couldn't resist the urge to face-palm, and I did it harder than I intended. My forehead felt sore, and I knew that it would redden before long. Oh, how I hated that annoying little pipsqueak, I just wish he would die already…
Father had a similar reaction, though instead of smacking his head across his head, he stopped at the last possible moment and instead brushed the hair out of his eyes with a deep, broody sigh, his good mood spoiled. Amaimon huffed and turned his back to Beelzebub, crossing his arms stubbornly as his alligator tail wrapped around his feet. Without warning, Beelzebub stood to his feet and advanced to the littlest brother of all, kneeling down behind him and grabbing his arm.
Amaimon cried out in shock, wrenched around to face Beelzebub. Deciding to stay and see how this show will end, I put down my pencil and cracked my knuckles. "Yeah, teach him a lesson, Beelze. Make him regret killing yer kin."
"Don't encourage him," mumbled Father, watching them warily. I couldn't help but chuckle, righting myself and crossing my legs as I waited for it all to unfold.
Which it did in due time.
It started off as it normally did, with Beelzebub giving him a lecture about how he shouldn't kill his kin or he would destroy him when he was twelve and Amaimon blatantly saying that he didn't care. As the conversation progressed, though, it became apparent that neither was willing to back down. Amaimon didn't apologize, and Beelzebub didn't stop asking for an apology. Before long, Amaimon was scratching Beelzebub's hand, trying to get him to release his arm, but it only made my bug brother angry and tighten his grip.
Amaimon's lip curled up, and he scratched harder and deeper. "Lemme go," he said curtly, his small claws digging deep as they would go into Beelzebub's hand. I could tell that he was beginning to get nervous—anxious, even—and was rather shocked that Father didn't try to stop the fight. Perhaps it wasn't violent enough for him yet. I saw that his body was tense, prepared to bring this confrontation to a screeching halt if things got out of hand.
"Papa," whimpered Amaimon, turning his head toward Father with tears in his eyes, "make him let go."
"Beelzebub has a point, my dear," Satan said with a slight frown. "You shouldn't kill his kin indiscriminately. Apologize to your brother."
"But—"
Oh my, this was too rich! Watching Amaimon beg for help that would never come while Beelzebub steadily tightened his grip on the littlest brother's arm like a stag beetle's pincers was the icing on the cake for me. I laughed heartily, unfortunately attracting Amaimon's attention. He looked at me with wide, blue eyes, scared and in pain. "Aniue!" he cried. "Aniue, make him let me go!"
"Apologize first," I said, knowing that he wouldn't, "and then maybe I will." And don't call me that, you annoying little twit.
It took more pleas toward Father and me as well as shouts from Beelzebub and a sharp twist of his arm for him to admit defeat and cry, "All right, all right, I'm sorry, let me go, let me go!"
Shoving Amaimon onto the ground and releasing him in the same swift movement, Beelzebub stood and brushed himself off, scowling down at the King of Flowers. He curled into a tight ball and cried, whimpering and shaking. Sunakon licked his cheek gently and asked him if he was okay, while Father's face turned from hesitant to guilty to miserable in a matter of minutes. Standing abruptly to his feet, he knelt down and picked Amaimon up in his arms, holding him closely; as he left the room, he said, "Both of you—Beelzebub, Samael—to your rooms, now." Sunakon followed at his heels, looking over toward Beelzebub and I with an unhappy frown.
I could just imagine what the white cat was thinking: "Are you happy now?"
The answer: "Yes."
Let me be perfectly honest with you guys. I got a guest review saying that they were uneasy with this chapter, and looking on it, I can see why. This chapter is short and doesn't really have anything to do with anything other than to show how much Amaimon's hated by more than one of his brothers, not just Mephisto... and I got some facts wrong. I'm sorry if I made people uneasy! *bow bow cry cry*
So, that's why I changed it! Satan is now a seer!
Rather short chapter. Sorry about that… ^^' Nothing really bad happening here other than showing how Amaimon's treated by his other big bros.
1. Sunakon—inspired by 'chūjitsuna konpanion', which is Japanese for 'faithful companion'. I figured that it would be cute for Satan to have a pet that's loyal to him and his family.
