Interview with A Demon

Chapter 2

I blinked my eyes as I sat up and looked around. Nothing was really visible for a few seconds as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I recognized shapes of a dresser, some light coming from a window to the outside, and more light from a door leading to the rest of the house. "Where the hell am I?' I groaned as I got up from the bed and cradled my head in my hands. "Last thing I remember..," I muttered as I thought back to the man, Damon, suddenly looking like a demon.

I walked over to the door and put my ear up to it, hoping to hear something from the outside, trying to figure out where I was.

"So, you want to go to bed or anything?" a female voice asked.

"No, we are supposed to be waiting for the woman listening at the door to wake up," a young man's voice replied.

I pushed the door open slowly and peeked out at a surprising sight, a pair of late-teenaged kids sitting on the couch watching TV. "Um..., what's going on?" I asked them.

The guy laughed to himself. "Go get Damon," he told the girl who went down the hall into another room. "Have a seat," he said as he motioned me to the seat by him on the couch.

"You're the singer from his band aren't you?" I asked him as I recognized his face.

"Yes, and sorry for bringing you here, but he mentioned you were a reporter," the boy said to me as I sat down.

"Yes, Emily Deegan, for the Boston Globe," I admitted. "He isn't going to kill me or anything is he?" I asked nervously.

"That's a good one," he laughed as he leaned back into his seat. "If we wanted you dead, you'd be dead by now," he said casually as I just stared at him. "But from what I gather, you saw him 'do his thing', and..." he was cut off as the girl brought Damon back into the room.

"I will handle this Cole. You and Cailin can get to sleep," he said as the teen got up.

"Good, I'm bushed," he yawned as he stretched out. "By the way, she doesn't seem to trust us and thinks you might kill her. Play nice," he laughed as he left the room with the girl.

"Kill you, that's a good one," Damon laughed as he walked to the kitchen area of the room.

I looked over at him as he began to mix himself something from the mini-bar. "Umm, whatever you're having is fine," I told him as he continued making a second drink. He came back over and sat beside me on the couch as he handed me the drink. "Thank you," I said as he sipped his drink.

"We brought you here because you fainted at the club, sorry if I had startled you," he told me as he muted the TV.

"So... what exactly are you? A mutant of some kind?" I asked him before he held his hand up, motioning for me to stop.

"First thing first. I'll tell you all about me, but you cannot tell anyone what you saw at the bank today. The four of us here, we value our privacy and do not want people beating down our door for interviews," he explained.

"But, the people have a right to know what you did today. I'm sure no one would care that you are a mutant," I told him.

"When I say that you cannot tell anyone, I mean that the paper will never print the story even if you can get them to believe it. We have friends in high places and they help look out for us as well. I'm just telling you all this so you don't spend needless time and energy on a story that will never be printed," he told me. "You may begin your questions when ready," he told me.

"Okay, what is your full name, age, and where are you from?" I asked as I quickly slipped back into reporter mode. I'll find someone to print this story, I thought to myself.

"Damon Blackheart, no middle name. 26 or a little over a million depending on how you look at it. And my birthplace has long since been destroyed by the forces of the Planet," he said as I stared at him.

"Okay...," I stuttered as I tried to process the information. "What are you? A mutant of some kind?"

"No," he said as he held up his hand and it transformed into the claw of a demon. "Let's just say I have a bit of a demon inside me," he smiled.

"Million years old, demon, ... this has to be a joke, right?" I asked him.

"You're understandably confused," he admitted. "Let me start back at the beginning, trust me, it will all be clear soon enough," he said as he took another drink and began to tell me his story.