Demonic Tales (Chapter of the Week)


Ethan Jae Roberts, Club Writer/Entertainment writer

Demonic Tales

By Ethan J. Roberts



Character of Malice/Reference of other Demons.

What does it take for me to not be stressed out? I feel as if every day is agony, as I do live with my older brothers and my grandparents instead of my real parents. Grandmother, especially, I believe she’s evil. My older brothers are on the more lenient and nicer side, and so is my grandfather.

Mischief is about a year older than me, and DJ is a couple years older; one thing we have in common is that we’re all Demons with different stories to share. Take me, for example, I go by Malice, but you can call me Mal.

My brothers and I were strolling about our hellish wasteland, scanning for thieves or intruders. Our grandparents were on the top of the pecking order, so every Demon in the land had to follow their orders as well as ours. I didn’t like this, because I was next in line for the throne, and all of the Demons hated my brothers and I. I ended up asking Mischief if he and DJ wanted to go across the border to the Human Land. My brother’s blue eyes widened in fear–DJ’s red eyes glistened at the thought of it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” quivered Mischief, fixing the pink bows on his two black horns.

DJ drooled, for he couldn’t keep his mouth closed whenever he stopped speaking. I seemed to be the only one who was willing to test her limits. “It’s just a peek. It can’t be that bad,” I reassured Mischief. The two boys could often sense trouble, and when it was present, they’d warn me. Nowadays, Humans were no trouble to us nor were we trouble to them…at least I think so.

Mischief and I were the first to set hoof onto the bridge that led us forward to the land of Humans. DJ tried keeping himself from drooling or belching, but he failed doing so as he kept making noise, even when they made it across. I had to cover his mouth in order for him to be quiet. At this point, we were hiding behind a bush, watching Humans as they went about their happy and sad days.

Suddenly, a scream erupted from a woman who spotted DJ’s tail. “A GOBLIN!!” She ran off, “HELP!! A GOBLIN TRIED TO KILL ME!”

Kill her? We didn’t do anything, did we? Wrong.

“INTRUDERS!” Shouted a guard, shooting at us with his rifle. We ended up going home that day with bruises on our arms from tripping and falling multiple times.