Writing Prompt #33 — Even Demons Will Play With Dolls

Prompt: The demon looked confused as he found himself summoned into a pink room, covered in princess posters and unicorn stickers. In front of him was a girl that looked about 5 years old, hugging a teddy bear and jumping up and down excitedly saying “yay yay yay, it worked!”

The incantation was read. The underworld shook as he was summoned. Through fire and brimstone, he rose and tore across the abyss. A vortex of fleshy colors swirled around him, formed, took shape and entered him. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he stood in a room that was far pinker than anything he had ever seen. Posters with various female humans in different poses were plastered to the walls, and sprinkled around them were colorful, shiny stickers of horses with horns, and tiny cherubs with glittery wings.

His sigil was drawn on the table he stood upon. A tiny, plastic knife blanched with red and a paint set laid next to it; a wrinkled sheet of paper was on the floor, the incantation scribbled in red crayon.

“Yay! Yay, yay, yay! It worked! It worked!” A little female human cheered across the room, sitting on a plastic chair in a ring of stuffed animals. A small doll house stood in the center of them, partially open.

“You summoned me?” he asked, his voice grating, as if with every word his throat ground gravel to a fine dust.

She jumped up, throwing her hand in the air, which had a small, red mark across the palm, then pointed towards Him. “I did! I did!”

“For what purpose? Only those who require removal of a human’s life summon me.”

“To play! Daddy’s not home, and mommy’s sleeping!”

“You summon me… to play?” A fine rest mist escaped his lipless mouth and slits for nostrils, rose and settled against the ceiling above Him. The plaster began to melt, drips of white fell on his horned shoulders, the table.

“Yes! I need someone to be Ken! Girls can’t play as boys—”

His oval amber eyes glowed, and as if a storm cloud passed over the sun, the room darkened. The lines that were etched up his body like snaking veins ebbed with a fiery light, illuminating the room, the small girl who sat back down. More mist escaped him, through his pores, through his eyes, became a smog engulfing him. The paint, the walls, the table beneath him, began to melt, burn, blacken.

“You summoned me!” he roared, stepping off the table that collapsed behind him. “To play? Do you know who I am child?” The carpet singed around his hoofed feet, the smell of burnt plastic filled the room.

A veil of tears covered her eyes, streamed down her chubby cheeks. She balled her shirt collar in her hand, and bit her lower lip. The little girl spoke in between sobs. “Yes… I wanted someone to play with… Daddy’s— daddy’s always gone, and— and mommy’s always sleeping… she takes pills… We— we— we moved here for daddy’s work. I have… I have no one to play with.”

He loomed over the girl, peering down through the red mist. He balled his pincer-like claws into fists. The demon looked back at the table, saw the paper with his incantation, saw the plastic knife that must have been used to cut her palm, and saw his symbol, though now destroyed.

“You summoned me little human,” he said, the ebbing color of his eyes and body gradually dulled and disappeared. “Thus, I will do your bidding this once.” Light fell into the room through the window once more, reflecting off the pink walls, filling the room with vibrance. The fine, rest mist quickly dissipated.

The demon crouched, took the doll that must have been Ken into his claws, and asked, “How do we begin, then?”

Read my previous prompt, “A Hidden Survivor.”

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