The Mysterious Demon

The night had been a long one.

Dominic had just finished conducting the fights that took place at her bar after a day of management and although the thrill of watching blood be spilt on her stage enticed her greatly, her time as a fighter was only spent acting against those who broke her rules or when Xavier was bored after a long day and needed the rush.

Tonight was peaceful though. When the stage was cleaned and the doors were locked, Blake drove in to come to pick Dominic up.

A small conversation was made before Xavier bid the couple well, closing the door of his luxurious car and drove off.

“You don’t seem to have gotten mixed into any trouble tonight,” Blake says scanning Dominic who hadn’t gotten any new scars like she sometimes would. He held one hand on the steering wheel of his car while the other was intertwined with Dominic’s.

“Unfortunately.” Dominic finishes off which causes the two to laugh.

When they made it home, everything was quiet. 5 AM was typically the calmest point in the night for them but when Dominic asks, “Is Amelia asleep?” Referring to their 17-year-old daughter who Dominic named after her birth mother, Blake motions forward where Dominic turned to see her daughter by the staircase, eyes reflecting the colour of hers but her hair was light and wavey like her father.

“Is everything okay?” Dominic asks, it wasn’t unusual for Amelia to be awake so late but Dominic recognised the dedicated look Amelia had in her eyes, dedicated and dangerous and that was worrying.

It seemed that something was bothering Amelia, it had been for a while.

Her parents were the most hard-working and loving people she knew. They were always there for her and supported her. She grew up with a huge family, even if most weren’t blood-related and she was strong. Both her mother and sometimes her uncle, Xavier, would train her in basic martial arts which earned her medals and awards in competitions over her years in high school.

She spent a lot of time in her mother’s bar during the day, it was like her second home. She was close to a lot of the workers and it built her confidence since people were more than willing to speak to Dominic’s daughter. However, it was because of her time in the bars that Amelia started to feel as if something wasn’t right.

She started to notice a lot of people were talking about them when they weren’t around. She could never make out anything specific but she was always under constant watch, always having people whisper, always watching out for people who seemed a bit too eager, a bit too fake.

Amelia realised she had to find out why she was being treated like that, why she had to constantly be protected by her mother and father so when she was able, she started to ask around.

No one would tell her anything for a while, people holding back due to some kind of fear. That was until one person finally gave her her first clue. He said,

“Ask The Mysterious Demon.”Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

The words meant nothing for a long time because he didn’t go further into who that was or where they could be found, Dominic pulled her away from the man before he could. If she asked anyone else who The Mysterious Demon was they’d tell her she’s wasting her time but she couldn’t help it. This hidden identity and its slow consumption of her thoughts, for some reason, gave her a feeling her parents were specifically hiding something from her.

So she had to ask.

“Mother,” She starts and Dominic’s hands roll into fists, worry starting to build.

“Who’s the Mysterious Demon?”

-THE END-

This story has been something really really close to my heart. It’s no Shakespeare piece or a literature text you’ll find classes of the year 2050 reading but the success you readers have brought onto my story, the love and attention you’ve given to something that I’ve poured my heart and soul into, I can’t begin to explain what this has meant to me. Your support, your patience- if there was a way I could thank the thousands of you who are here in a way that would make you understand how much it’s impacted me, I would. But, words can only do so much, as powerful as they are.

Thank you.

Truly.

Thank you for allowing me to write this story and thank you for reading it.

Lovingly,

-Your Author