The Evil Demon

What is real? Is this experience real or merely an illusion created by the madness of my own mind? Perhaps it is a deceptive force designed to appease my secret desires, a mechanism to maintain my sanity. Yes.

All I’ve ever known has been confined within the four walls of my room. Now, out here, I don’t know what was real and what was not. Was that room real? Is out here real? It’s conceivable that both are equally real—or perhaps both are equally deceptive in their own ways.

Yet, there’s a certain charm about deception. I find myself drawn to Mr. Ren. He does not cause me harm. If he is a maestro of misinformation, then I would willingly embrace those illusions. 

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

As Mr. Ren led me out of the room, I caught sight of an engraving on the door, a cryptic mark that held no meaning for me, as I was never granted the privilege of learning to read. Bad girls like me are deemed unworthy of such knowledge, unlike Anne, who, despite being younger than me, possessed the ability to read. She was a good girl.

“Mr. Ren, what does that say?” I inquired, gesturing towards the engraving.

He made a clicking sound with his tongue, the look on his face signalling he felt a sense of disgust. Perhaps he might resort to violence for requesting too much from him. His expression suggested he was weighing his options. Just as I was on the verge of apologising, he broke the silence. “It says trash.”

He walked beside me through the various sections of the house. Having never ventured beyond my room, I was completely unaware of what lay beyond. It was so very big. I felt fortunate to have Mr. Ren accompanying me; without him, I surely would have become lost.

Each room we entered had engravings on the door. Initially, I intended to remain silent, resisting the urge to ask Mr. Ren about the meaning of each symbol. However, to my surprise, he took the initiative to read them aloud.

As he spoke, I began to grasp how each symbol corresponded to specific sounds. While my voice might have been far from pleasing, I was able to piece together words and symbols. Perhaps one day, I would even learn to read. Yet, I reminded myself that I wasn’t smart like Anne.

As we passed by a room filled with a stunning array of dolls and beautiful decorations, I noticed that, for the first time since we had left my room, Mr. Ren had chosen not to immediately reveal what was inscribed on the door.

After a moment of hesitation, he said with a sigh. “The engraving says Anne Chesternaut.”

So this was my sister’s room. It was a stark contrast to my own. Where mine was messy and had a damp smell, hers was spotless, as if she cleaned it regularly. In fact, nearly every room I had passed so far had been clean, which only served to further highlight just how much of a bad girl I was.

Her room had lots of interesting items in it—books and toys, the kind of things reserved for smart and well-behaved girls. Good girls like Anne. But then again, I had a few possessions that weren’t present in this room. For instance, I had a chain. It was something Anne didn’t own. That made me really lucky.

We continued down the hall, passing several more rooms before stopping in front of one filled with books. The sign on the door apparently read Library. I had to wonder whoever this Mr. Library was—he must have really loved books. I liked books, too, though I couldn’t actually read them. That made Mr. Library an especially lucky person.

“Kid, how much do you know about the outside world?” Mister Ren asked, his fingers skimming the spines of books in Mr. Library’s room.

“I don’t know much, sorry,” I admitted, as I braced myself for a smack for being so useless.

“Do you know about the Teraxious?”

“Yes, my father mentioned them once during one of his scoldings,” I replied, recalling the expression on his face that day. It was redder than the welts on my back from his whip.

“So, you’re aware that they are linked to the world ending?”

“Yes,” I replied. My world had already crumbled the moment he shattered those chains. Everything I had known was gone. This was a completely new world for me. Compared to that, the world ending didn’t seem like such a big deal.

“Well, I don’t want to die, so I intend to do whatever I can to prevent the world from ending.” While I couldn’t quite grasp why someone would care so deeply about the fate of the world, I did understand the instinct to avoid death. If you misbehaved, you lost your head. And losing your head meant dying. Dying didn’t seem like much fun.

“The only way to stop the world’s destruction is to venture into the rifts between realities and retrieve the Chalice of Xilu.”

The Chalice of Xilu? That was far beyond anything I could comprehend. I barely understood life beyond my four walls, let alone a Chalice of Xilu. I think my face may have displayed confusion, as Mr. Ren kindly added. “It’s alright, kid. Explaining things like this isn’t exactly my cup of tea. I was planning to take you to my base camp anyway—plenty of people there can explain all of this far better than I ever could.”

“Is there anything you want kid, before we head off?”

My eyes landed on a book resting on the table. Its pages were filled with pretty pictures. Anne once told me that books contained stories of magical creatures—beings that might even have the power to stop the end of the world. That may come in handy. Besides, I wanted to learn to read.

“If it is alright, I want this,” I said, reaching out and carefully picking up the book.

“Alright, go ahead and take it, and let’s—” His voice trailed off, seemingly distracted by something.

His gaze drifted toward a stone monument, where a sculpted bust of my father rested atop a weathered pedestal. Next to it was a similar Bust of Stepmother and another of Anne.

“Kid, there’s one last thing I need to do before we leave. Can you help me?”

I hesitated. Help? I wasn’t sure if I was even capable of that. People always told me I was useless, and I had come to believe them. What could I possibly do to be of any assistance? But Mr. Ren had been kind to me, and that alone made me want to try.

“I’ll do my best,” I said, though uncertainty weighed on my words.

At that, the man grinned—and then, without warning, he lifted a wooden chair and smashed it against the ground. The sudden burst of violence startled me for a moment, though not as much as it might have startled someone else. I had seen chairs break before. I had even had them break on me. So, while it was unexpected, it was only slightly startling.

“Take this,” he said, handing me a long, sturdy fragment of wood from the shattered chair. “I’ve heard rumours that there’s treasure hidden inside those busts of your family. Care to help me find it?”

I obeyed without question and began striking the stones. With each blow, a strange feeling welled inside of me, though I couldn’t quite explain what it was. The impact sent jarring vibrations up my arm, so you would expect it to hurt—yet it didn’t. Instead, it felt surprisingly good.

As chunks of the stone bust crumbled away, I kept my eyes sharp, hoping to catch the glimmer of hidden treasure. But as more and more of the sculpture fell apart, all I found was plain, unremarkable stone.

By the time the fragments were reduced to small, scattered pieces, I had no choice but to stop. There was nothing there. No treasure.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ren,” I said, lowering my gaze. “I couldn’t find anything.”

The man lifted his hand, and instinctively, I flinched, bracing myself for the strike I knew was coming. For failing. For being useless. But instead of a blow, I felt his hand as he tousled my hair gently.

“You did good, kid. You did good,” he said. His smile was warm, yet his eyes were almost sorrowful. Maybe, despite his kind words, I had still disappointed him.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

End Chapter 2