How they met

Amaimon strolled casually down the crowded street somewhere in Assiah, sucking on a lollypop. It had been too long since he last found a vessel that could contain him, too long since he last had something to do. His brothers didn't want to play with him; Samuel had been too distracted in recent decades by the exorcist group he had joined, True cross or something.

Now it was the depression (silly humans and their worries about money) and he was enjoying observing as their lives fell to rack and ruin. The slums were his favourite as that was the best place to see these people give in to their despair, the perfect place for a demon to find a host.

He was in one such place now; the swirling masses of people were filthy and desperate as they haggled and gambled and robbed and fought for the right to live. It was beautiful and disgusting, and just another example of why demons were better than humans.

As he was walking he noticed something; a group of people all sitting around a table with cards in their hands. This scene wouldn't have been all that interesting, except all but one of them were in their underwear despite the cold weather. Getting closer Amaimon noticed the pile of cloths, money, and other possessions sitting next to the only one in attire suiting the temperature. This person was interesting; white hair, scarred, and reeking of blood, and yet they didn't look as old as the others at the table.

Seeing Amaimon's interest in the game the boy smiled, it was a smile Amaimon might give if he saw a particularly strong opponent to play with.

'Are you interested in joining us?' the boy asked in a voice that screamed innocent and naive, not the voice one often heard in a place like this.

Not really knowing the rules Amaimon nodded, and resolved to learn as he went.

Very soon he was watching as all his favourite cloths were added to the pile with the rest of them.

The longer he played the more he noticed the way the boy was watching him. The more cloths he lost the more of his demon features were on display, not that the boy should be able to see them without a temptaint.

Eventually he realised why he couldn't win, nor could anyone else, the boy was cheating.

As soon as he realised this Amaimon left the game with the resolution to find the boy latter, and teach him better than to try and cheat a demon king.

He got his chance, unfortunately he blew it.

The boy walked into a more deserted area of the city and Amiamon took his chance to issue his challenge. Normally he didn't care if people saw his fights or not, but this was different; this was pride instead of anger.

The boy smiled and accepted.

The fight didn't last ten minutes; once again the boy was cheating.

Amaimon looked up at the white haired boy grinning down at him, the blades of what looked like some claw-thing held to his throat. This close to his skin Amaimon could feel the holy power radiating off of them in waves. It wasn't fair; humans should not be that strong, and strong humans should not be using powder thrown into eyes as an advantage, nor should that powder contain a drug that is absorbed through the skin to make you dizzy, and the drug should most definitely not only be effective against demons when the boy wasn't even a exorcist.

'Who are you?' Amaimon finally managed to ask.

'Allen Walker,' was the reply, 'retired exorcist and gambling extraordinaire, at your service.'

The blades of the claw pierced his skin and Amaimon was struck with the feeling of peace and euphoria. He wasn't going to die but wouldn't have particularly cared if he had.

'As I am retired,' the boy said as he stood up, 'I feel absolutely no need to kill you. Enjoy the rest of your life and I hope we meet again.'

Even in his haze Amaimon managed one word, 'cheat.'

Allen gave him one last smile as he started to vanish around into a different alley. 'Of course, I am the biggest cheater there is. You have to be pretty good to cheat death itself.'

Next chapter: after school